Damocles: The Dark Avenger
by TimeFury1347
Summary: As the city recovers from the horror of the Undertaking, one man will rise up to fight for the damaged city. Watch as this new vigilante stands against the crime and corruption, eventually standing alongside the Emerald Archer as... Damocles. (Working on a better summary)
1. City of Heroes

"I don't want to be called the Hood anymore."

It had been a few days since he had gotten back to Starling, and only a matter of hours since he had rescued his sister. And still, Oliver Queen was trying to fully commit himself to the idea of donning the hood once again. So many thoughts flitted through his mind. He had been a murderer in that hood, a necessary killer certainly, as his actions had proved, but a killer nonetheless. He had only tackled the city's symptoms on the surface, neglecting its festering heart and allowing the damage to grow, while all he did was mop up the overspill. He had allowed Malcolm Merlyn to continue in his plans unopposed, and had only moved to stop him when it was too late. He should have searched longer, he should have fought harder. If he had, then maybe the Undertaking could have been prevented. Maybe the 503 people killed during the earthquake would still be alive. Maybe Tommy wouldn't have died.

Tommy… His death plagued Oliver constantly. The loss of his friend, the loss of his _brother_. It was like losing a limb, like having a chunk of his heart ripped out before his eyes. The pain he had lived with for the past five months had been almost unbearable, and had pushed him away from everyone and everything. He didn't want to risk something like that ever again. He had lost so much since the Gambit disappeared beneath the waves. Tommy had pushed him right to the edge, and he knew that there was no way he could survive something like that again without losing himself completely. He was already carrying so much on his shoulders, it wouldn't take much to utterly crush him.

"Ok." Diggle's deep voice pulled him out of his emotional nosedive. "So, what do you want to be called?"

Shaken out of his head, Oliver quickly took in the two other members of his team, stood across from him. Diggle and Felicity, the brains and heart of this entire operation. He was glad that they had come after him, glad that they had brought him back to Starling when they did. And, deep down, he knew that they were right. The city still needed saving. It still needed someone to stand up for it. But, that didn't have to mean killing. He had proved that the night before, and, in that moment, his doubt cleared.

Both he and Tommy had loved Starling, growing up in the great concrete jungle. And now, he would honour Tommy's memory, honour the bravery he had held at the end, by defending his city. His _home_.

As he looked down at the arrow he had clenched in his hand, his mind began to kick back into gear. Diggle's question drifted to the front of his mind. The Hood was a name associated with fear, drenched in blood and death. Eyes wandering over the razor-sharp arrowhead, a new name came to him. One that had the potential to pull this city back from the brink, to succeed where the Hood never could.

Oliver Queen was the Arrow. And he had a lot of work to do.

Suddenly, the computer behind him let out a noise, a bleeping alarm that snapped him from his thoughts.

"What's that?" He asked, placing the arrow on a nearby table as he moved closer to see. He was slowed down, however, by Felicity. The woman had become a blonde rocket, racing by him and crashing into her chair, sitting before the alarm.

"This…" she began, stopping for a second as she seemed to be thinking about what came next, something that Oliver was unused to in the blonde, "…is another surprise for you."

Oliver's brow furrowed at the vague statement, his gaze flitting over his two friends quickly. Felicity's face was a mixture of apprehension and excitement, while Diggle was as stoic as ever. The archer was surprised, however, to see a faint glint of the same excitement in the bodyguard's eyes, along with a hint of… respect?

"Ok then. What's this one?" Whatever it was, the looks on his friends' faces certainly served to pique Oliver's curiosity.

"It's not a _what_." Felicity corrected him, fingers flying across the keyboard as she brought up a grainy video feed from a security camera. "It's a _who_."

And, for the third time in as many days, Oliver felt his world shift beneath his feet.

The video was showing the interior of what seemed to be a warehouse. There were cages placed against one wall, containing dark shapes within, some moving about inside while others remained still, although all were too far into the shadows to be seen beyond their outline. Shelves partially blocked the view, although Oliver could see an armed man moving about, machine gun clutched in his hands. As the man moved in front of one of the tall shelves, something seemed to draw their focus to the ground. The man knelt, and Oliver's eyes widened slightly as a figure, dressed all in black aside from the white outline of a skull on his face, dropped down from above. The guard was almost crushed into the ground, gun clattering to the floor as their head smacked forcefully into the concrete, knocking them out. The figure didn't waste a moment, turning and leaping towards the metal shelf, clambering back up speedily and disappearing just a few seconds before another guard happened upon their fallen comrade.

Felicity hit a few more keys, and the single feed split into several, each showing a different angle of the warehouse. Oliver's eyes flicked over each screen, watching as the figure appeared behind another guard. The guard's head was smashed into a nearby metal strut, before the figure spun them around and kneed the stunned man in the stomach, slamming an elbow into his back as he doubled over. The figure knelt, and Oliver could see them removing the clip from the guard's gun, tossing it away with a sharp flick of the wrist, before the hands began to run over the downed body, seemingly searching for something. The work was brought to an abrupt halt, however, and the masked head turned quickly, seeming to hear something before darting forward, into the view of another camera. And in front of the rest of the guards.

What happened next seemed to drag on for hours to Oliver, but in reality was over in the space of a minute. The armed guards, numbering just over half a dozen, raised their weapons to fire. Before they could, the figure grabbed at the barrel of the nearest gun, forcing it up towards the ceiling and using it to pull them closer to the weapon's owner. With a grip around the man's throat, the figure spun them both, the guard now being used as a shield against the storm of lead that was ready to be unleashed at any second. There was no audio, but the sight of the guard's overly twisted arm left Oliver in no doubt about the bone's fractured state. The figure now had the guard-turned-hostage's gun, and swung the weapon around in an arc, finger tightening on the trigger. Bullets flew through the air, with the other guards diving to the ground as they scrambled to avoid the tiny yet lethal projectiles. One fell with a sharp spin, one hand moving quickly to his now-crimson shoulder, while a further three lost their grip in the confusion, weapons slipping easily from their hands and falling away, leaving their former bearer's defenceless. The barrage continued for a few seconds, with one of the cameras suddenly going dark as it fell victim to one of the wild shots. Eventually, the figure tossed the empty gun away, free hand now being used to subdue his 'shield' before dropping them limply to the ground, and began to move again.

And now came the real fight.

The guards were only just picking themselves up from the ground when the figure reached the nearest one. Sliding across the floor, their legs swept the guard off his feet once again, crashing down to the ground on his back. A swift punch to the face kept him down, blood slowly beginning to leak out of his clearly broken nose. Leaping to a standing position, the figure quickly reached into their pockets, drawing out two long metal sticks from their confines. The pair were simplistic in nature, grey steel with a few straps wrapped around one end for rudimentary grips. Oliver could only assume that they had been homemade, the materials easy enough to find and patch together. Still, they certainly served their purpose, as the figure swung them with a near perfect level of accuracy and skill. One guard was sent flying with a single strike, blood spraying from the smooth gash in the side of his head, another one following shortly after. The figure dropped closer to the ground again, sliding along the floor and between two of the remaining guards. The metal sticks tripped them over, heads slamming into the ground and leaving them dazed, long enough for the metal to swing back around and strike both on the back of the head and leave them there, bodies unmoving as blood began to slowly leak through their hair, the suppressed rising and falling of their chests the only sign that they were still alive.

There was now only one guard left, gun held shakily in his hands, and all three members of the team watched silently as the figure ran towards the solitary man, metal batons ready for action. The guard trained his gun on his approaching attacker, the distance great enough for him to squeeze down on the trigger for a second or two. They came near to the figure, but didn't seem to find their intended target, the black suited man still rushing onwards. At the last second, the gun fell to the ground as the guard looked to be deciding whether to run or fight. The figure was faster, however, slamming into the man and sending them both skidding several feet. The batons were forgotten as, while Oliver watched with a keen focus, the figure hammered their fists into the guard's face, skill and precision vanishing for a moment in favour of a brutal fury that made even Oliver's stomach twist slightly.

Finally, the blows stopped, and the figure pushed himself to his feet, staggering backwards a few steps as the adrenaline left his body, before stepping over the unconscious and heavily beaten guards. Oliver watched as the masked man moved towards the cages, stooping to pick up the discarded batons along the way and slide them back into their pockets. Reaching their destination, the figure reached down to his boot, pulling out a long, sharp looking blade. Oliver watched silently, curiosity burning through him, as the knife was driven into the cage door's lock, ripping the small object away with a harsh twist. The figure spent a minute or so doing the same for the rest of the cages, eventually slipping the tool away once the task was complete.

Slowly, the cages were pushed open from within, and Oliver couldn't stop his eyes widening at the sight of who came crawling out, either alone or in pairs. Children. Roughly two dozen kids emerged, the oldest looking to be about twelve while the youngest seemed to barely be five. It didn't take long for the truth of the situation to register. Human Trafficking. Those guards had been guarding the children, waiting to ship them off and sell them to the highest bidder. A sick feeling grew in his stomach at the realisation. Such a crime had been going on in his city, and he had done nothing. He hadn't even _known_ about it. Memories of a nine-year-old Thea flashed in front of his eyes, and his knuckles almost turned completely white, nails digging painfully into his palms. Less than a day, and he was already reconsidering his no-killing policy.

What came next passed quite quickly, compared to the slaughter that came before it. The figure managed to gather the kids around him, and looked to be explaining something, arms waving slightly as he spoke. The group all nodded, clearly glad to be free, and soon began to move, the figure leading the huddle out of the warehouse. Oliver watched the masked man until he had vanished, the last image being of him hoisting one of the younger girls to his chest.

As Felicity shut down the camera feed to the monitor, Oliver moved back, turning to face the other two after a few seconds spent processing what he had just seen. There was a new vigilante in Starling, one who clearly knew what he was doing. And one who was a complete unknown to him.

"Who was that?" He finally asked, staring at Diggle and Felicity with a look that all but demanded answers. He didn't miss the brief glace that the two shared before answering.

"Honestly, we don't know." Diggle finally admitted, arms crossed over his chest. "Dude showed up a few months ago, began tackling crime in the Glades. We've been trying to find something on him, but all we have are the odd recording or witness statement. The guy's a damn ghost."

"When did he first start?" Oliver asked, looking to Felicity for an answer this time.

"First sightings date back to a week or so after the Undertaking." She supplied, turning to the computers and bringing up a number of reports. "He's kept things pretty low key, although he seems to be primarily targeting gang activity."

Oliver couldn't reply for a few seconds. Whoever this guy was, he'd been doing his job for most of the time he'd been in his 'exile'. A feeling of respect began to grow in his chest at this revelation, although it was nullified somewhat by the twin sensations of guilt and worry. He was an unknown element with an unknown agenda, one that had the potential to make things worse for the already damaged city. It wouldn't be the first time Oliver had seen one of the 'good guys' slip too far into the darkness. Good or not, Oliver had to know more about him before anything concrete decision could be made.

Reaching this conclusion, he returned his focus to the two team members across from him, waiting for a response.

"Keep seeing what you can find on this guy." Oliver instructed. "Until we can be sure of who he is, or if he poses a threat, we'll leave him alone. God knows this city needs all the help it can get right now." As the pair nodded, his eyes fell to the frozen image that Felicity had brought up on the screen. Black attire, masked face, and arm lashed out as his fist slammed into his target's jaw. One question swam through his mind, floating above the tangled quagmire that was sure to follow.

 _Just who exactly was this guy?_

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Starling City had existed for over a hundred years, growing from a small frontier town into one of the greatest metropolis' in the country. And, even with the rise in crime that had plagued the city for years, its history was still a long and illustrious one, filled with building, beautifying, and the ever-present march of progress.

But, in amongst this history, there were more than a few secrets. Secrets about the buildings, about the people, about the events that had taken place. Small secrets, big secrets, and every sort in between. Secrets known to many, secrets known to some, and secrets known to a select few.

And then, there were the secrets that had been completely lost to time, lying underneath the shell of business and progress, underneath the layers of crime, corruption and death. They lay at the heart of the city, slowly gathering dust, but still there, even once all memory of them had vanished into the mist.

The Crypt was one such secret. During the founding days of the city, a church had been built, in honour of a saint that had been forgotten long ago. To the outward eye, it had not proved very impressive, barely taller than the structures surrounding it. But it was what was hidden beneath the stone and wood that counted.

A series of rooms were created beneath the church, built to serve as tombs for the greatest and wisest men that the future might produce. Well over twice the size of the building atop it, it had become the resting place of almost a dozen before an earthquake struck the area. The church had collapsed, as had many other buildings, with the entrance to the Crypt being lost in the chaos. There had been plans to rebuild the place of worship, but, as is want to happen, the claws of progress tore this idea to shreds. The stone was used for some new project, the land levelled, and new structures built atop it. But the Crypt remained, dark and forgotten, while generations had passed by above it, never realising what existed beneath their feet.

Or, at least, that was how it had been until a few years ago.

Sin span lazily in her chair as she waited for the sound of her friend's return, eyes slowly revolving around the slightly darkened room. Well, _room_ didn't quite do the place justice. The chamber she was in was massive, a circle fifteen metres across that stretched nearly as tall above her head, arches spread along that curving wall serving to keep the structure from crumbing in on itself. Four doors led out, like the points of a compass, three leading to other, smaller, circular rooms, while the fourth connected to a winding set of stairs that led to the world above. Heavy iron torch brackets were set into the wall at regular intervals, metal rusted brown and orange from their years of neglect, some even beginning to pull away from their moorings, flecks of rust piling on the ground beneath. Rubble was scattered across the floor of the chamber, chips of brick and cement that had been dislodged from the walls or ceiling, and the entire place on its own had a slightly sinister feeling to it. If she didn't know better, Sin might have thought that some long dead spirits still dwelt in the forgotten tomb, haunting the place decades, if not centuries after their bones had gone.

But, even amidst the dusty history of the place that had been removed from much of the city's development, the modern world shone through. Strip lights were suspended from the ceiling, lighting up the Crypt and chasing most of the shadows away. Much of the rubble had either been removed or packed tightly against the base of the wall, with metal grates laid across the dusty stone to provide an even surface. One of the side rooms had been turned into a makeshift hospital, complete with bed, machinery and cabinets filled with medical supplies, while another had racks fixed to the stone, on which hung a variety of weapons, surrounding a life sized male mannequin that was currently bereft of decoration. The last room resembled a garage, with tools laid across the ground while a small fuel pump and other pieces of machinery were nearby, all ready to service whatever came down the ramp that looked to have simply been cut out of one part of the curved wall. Across from Sin in the main hub, a handful of mats had been laid to create a small sparring area, with weights, rope and several multi-limbed spar dummies present, while a salmon ladder reached up to the arched ceiling. And, surrounding her chair, computers sat arranged in a loose semi-circle, banks working away beneath the tables while monitors were lit up with an assortment of maps and information, although one had been temporarily hijacked by her to show a SpongeBob cartoon. Cables providing power to the masses of equipment hung from the roof, and, even in the confined and pretty creepy space, the entire thing felt almost cosy, like a sheltered area of Starling that no one could invade, or even find, apart from the two people that called it their home away from home.

Sin still struggled to believe sometimes how much the place had changed since its rediscovery almost eight years ago. She had been nine at the time, still sheltered enough not to understand the truth of the city she had been raised in, and had been spending time with one of her friends, although the eleven-year-old was more of a brother to her than anything else. They had decided to spend the afternoon exploring some of the abandoned buildings near her apartment block, playing some game about looking for treasure, when they had stumbled across a hole in the floor of the basement of the closed down store, the light just about revealing the start of a staircase behind one of the walls, leading down. It had taken almost two hours of chipping and hitting away at the crumbling concrete to make the hole big enough for both of them to fit through, but they had done it, and soon discovered a dark underground room, one that had initially terrified her. The boy had stayed close, holding her hand, however, and, after a few weeks spent removing some of the more 'undesirable' content (Sin swore to this day that she had put her foot through a skull at least once), they had made it into their own little hide away. She would go down there when she had time, or was bored, or needed to be alone. Once her dad had 'gone', she had even taken to sleeping down there on occasion, when she couldn't find anywhere else. Still, until a few months ago, it had still remained almost as they had found it, the battery powered lamps the only improvement to have come from the world above in well over a century.

That had all changed, however, when Sin had found herself dragged into a completely new world.

The muffled rumbling of a motorcycle engine from the doorway to her left silenced her thoughts, and she listened as the noise slowly subsided, to be replaced by the sound of heavy footsteps, quiet at first and then growing louder as they neared the central hub. She turned to look as they came closer, rising at the appearance of the figure that accompanied the irregular beat, eyes quickly flitting over him as he stepped into the light, one hand pressed tightly to his side.

The clothing was all black. Thick boots dragged across the ground, powered by legs that were encased in a set of fitted cargo pants. Two steel prongs jutted out of the top pockets, the tips of the man's weaponry in easy reach of the leather-gloved hands. A tight, long sleeve black muscle shirt clung to the man, revealing a well-built physique and, under the rip in the side that the hand failed to fully cover, a steadily growing patch of crimson blood. Finally, the head was concealed by a black ski mask, covering almost the entire face apart from a pair of hazel eyes. Across the material, a white skull provided some decoration, the skeletal grin giving the figure an edge that most would find, if not scary, then distinctly sinister. Well, everyone apart from Sin.

Pulling the figure's other arm over her shoulder, Sin quickly guided the city's newest vigilante across the room and into the short corridor that led to the 'field hospital', a look of resigned exasperation taking its familiar place over her features.

"Ok, what have you done this time?" She asked, releasing her best friend as he sank onto the bed and reaching for a needle and surgical thread. As she did so, the man himself reached up to slowly peel away his mask.

"I can't take credit for all of this." Sin turned back at the comment to see the smirking, if slightly pale, face of Aidan Maddox, features beginning to tighten as the pain finally hit his system. "The guy who shot me did his fair share too."

Her only response was to roll her eyes as she began to rip away the material of the shirt, bringing the long red line into the light. As she passed the first stitch through the flesh, accompanied by a suppressed hiss of pain from her 'patient', she began to mull over a question that had become a regular fixture in her mind for the past four months.

 _How the hell did I get mixed up in this?_

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 _The hard brick of the alley wall dug into her back, the rough surface tearing away her shirt and leaving painful scratches on her skin. It was faring better than her front, however, which had an assortment of grazes and bruises spread in an ugly pattern across her face, stomach and the top of her chest. Sin grunted in pain as a large hand slammed into her jaw, sending her head crashing sideways into the brick and bringing with it a dizzy sensation, the side of her face burning from the impact. She tried to struggle free, but more arms held her in place, thick muscles suppressing her skinny, slightly starved, frame and keeping her where she was, no matter how hard she fought._

" _You know what we want, bitch." The thug in front of her growled. His face had knotted itself into an almost solid scowl, to the extent that his bushy eyebrows looked like a single hairy caterpillar, and Sin forced herself not to gag at the stench of rotten food that was carried to her on his breath. "We're the new bosses in town, and you ain't leaving until you TELL ME THE MEETIN' TIME!"_

 _It had been almost a month since the earthquake that had destroyed half the Glades, a terrible night that the media had taken to calling 'the Undertaking', and things had not taken long to get worse. The criminals that had fled the condemned city district had trickled back in, and every night there were new players trying to stake their own claim, like vultures circling a dying beast. The police were doing what they could to maintain order, which, considering their work before the earthquake, was next to nothing, and there had been no sign of the Hood since that fateful night. People were losing what little hope they had left, and this opportunity for lawlessness was being eagerly snapped up by Starling City's seedy underbelly._

 _The three that were surrounding Sin were a prime example of the more brain dead criminal element that had risen up. Her business in the Glades was information, both gathering and distributing. If someone wanted to know something, they came to her. She was practically without equal in this field. And, for the past few weeks, many had come to learn this. Criminals, both individuals and gangs, had come to her to find out this or that, and she had been making a tidy little profit off their need. Nothing came free in Starling, and knowledge of the right schedule or building layout was worth more than gold. And, until about half an hour ago, the vast majority of clients had managed to respect this simple fact, pressing either wads of notes or sellable trinkets into her hands in 'gratitude for her services rendered.'_

 _But not these three. This lot had tracked her down and, instead of honouring the time-honoured tradition of trade, had simply demanded what they wanted, with the inclusion of an 'or else' that only served to show their lack of a shared brain cell. What they lacked in intelligence, however, they made up for in muscle, and Sin had spent the last five minutes being tossed around like a rag doll as they tried to beat the intel out of her._

 _Sin forced her head around so that she could stare Monobrow directly in the eye, holding his gaze for a few seconds. The idiot's face twisted into an arrogant smirk, seeming to believe that he had broken her resolve. This delusion was shattered, however, when she proceeded to spit in his face, the mixture of saliva and blood scoring a direct hit on the bridge of his nose before flowing down his ugly features._

" _Screw you, asshole." She hissed. She couldn't even remember what it was they wanted, but after their actions she knew one thing: the only way they would get it would be if they cut it out of her cold, dead mouth. Which, considering the sharp stabs of pain that spread across her being, was probably how this was going to end anyway._

" _You little…" Monobrow spluttered, using the sleeve of his jacket to scrub the disgusting concoction off his face, before slamming another fist into her stomach. Sin forced herself to stay silent at the blow, even though the air was forced from her already burning lungs. The thug's hand reached into his jacket for a moment, before pulling out a tire iron. "You don't want to talk? Fine." He grinned horribly, slowly raising his arm to rain down pain on her. "Let me help you with that." Sin forced herself to keep her eyes on Monobrow, her stare filled with a loathing that, if looks could kill, would have sent him burrowing straight through the centre of the earth. Still, as the iron began its descent, she couldn't help but curl in on herself as much as she could, body tightening as she waited for the impact…_

… _that never came._

 _Monobrow's expression turned from smug arrogance to fearful amazement in a second as he saw who was stopping his swing. A man, clad all in black, with a skull for a face and eyes filled with a burning fury._

" _Didn't your mother ever tell you not to hit a woman?" The man hissed, fist growing tight around the thug's wrist. The thug hissed in pain and swung his other arm around, trying to hit the masked man. A second later, the hiss turned into a full-blown scream as the trapped arm was twisted violently, the bone shattering with an audible_ **CRACK**. _The tire iron dropped to the ground, numb fingers losing grip instantly. Monobrow had a second to cradle the injury before the figure's booted foot slammed into his chest, sending him careening to the dirty alley ground and skidding back several feet. A pitiful moan emanated from the fallen criminal, like the sound of a dog with its tail between its legs._

 _Sin came close to hitting the ground as well, since both the thugs holding her against the wall had let go, stepping closer to the masked figure. Her legs stayed strong, however, and she was able to watch as first one then both thugs went on the offensive. It didn't take long for that role to be reversed, though. Sin's eyes widened at the flurry of movements as the masked stranger made short work of thugs 2 and 3. The moves looked to be straight out of an action movie, although there was something of a bar brawler in the man as well. As these thoughts rolled through her mind, Thug 2 was smashed into the ground head first, while Thug 3 ended up half sticking out of a nearby dumpster. The masked man knelt to check on the unconscious thug, before straightening and beginning to approach her. Sin couldn't help but curl in on herself slightly causing the man to stop, eyes fixed on her. Was that sadness she could see in them? And why where they so familiar?_

 _ **BANG!**_

 _The gunshot completely shattered her thoughts, causing her head to whip round. Monobrow was on his knees, one arm dangling uselessly at his side. The other one, however, had a small revolver clenched into the fist, the source of the noise. The shot seemed to have gone wild, but the gun was still targeted on the masked man._

" _You bastard!" Monobrow screamed, finger pulling back on the trigger again and again. "I'm gonna kill you!"_

 _The masked man had leaped back at the first crack of gunfire, but was now quickly rushing the armed thug. More gunshots followed the first, and Sin could see the impact on the alley wall as four bullets slammed into it. The last shot went ringing out just as the figure made contact, hurling the thug into the ground with the black clad man atop him. And this time, he showed no sign of stopping._

 _A full minute went by with no sound to be heard, save for the heavy thuds of leather meeting flesh. Sin could only see the man's back, but still, the violent movement of his entire upper body told her that, whatever was happening, she was better off not seeing it. Monobrow's cries of pain had been silenced after only a few seconds, but even then, the beating kept on coming, with only the occasional muffled moan to show for it._

 _At last, the figure rose to his feet, back stooped slightly as he stared down. Sin could see the blood slowly leaking off his tightened fists, which were almost shaking with suppressed energy. A turn of the head caught her eye, and Sin watched as the man seemed to consider turning around, before deciding against it and simply stepping onto a nearby fire escape, pulling himself up the side of the building. Sin watched as, in a matter of seconds, he was gone, vanishing into the darkness he had so swiftly emerged from._

 _It took her a minute to build up the willpower needed to control her body, and another to push herself away from the wall she was had been using for support. She winced as pain flared up across her body once again, before looking around at the three crumpled forms. Slowly, she began to limp out of the alley, ignoring the sight of the brawl behind her. She knew exactly what she had to do. Exactly where she had to go._

 _The walk took her twenty minutes, limping heavily and having to use walls or lampposts for support. The injuries weren't crippling, but the energy they took from her left her limbs feeling sluggish and tired. Still, eventually she stood in front of her destination and, fumbling in her pocket for a key and pressing it into the door's lock, let herself in to the bar's darkened interior. The place was deserted, silent except for her and the occasional passing vehicle. While cloaked in shadows, the familiar scent of the old leather seats and wood panelling helped to bring a sense of calm to her, one that had been severely lacking in recent weeks. This place had only been opened a few months ago, but she had known it for far longer. Or rather, she had known what was below._

 _Locking the door and making her way to the back, Sin opened the door to the basement and, locking it behind her, made her way down. Barrels and racks met her, a store room housing the drinks that had people bringing money in every night. Along one wall, several large barrels dominated the wall, pipes leading up to the taps above, and it was to these that she slowly moved. Reaching up, her fingers ran along several pipes, before her hand stilled and she pulled down. A click, and part of the wooden container swung away, revealing a stone staircase spiralling down. Sin quickly stepped through and, with a nudge, the hidden door sealed itself once more, concealing its secret from prying eyes._

 _Halfway down the stairs, Sin's vision began to swim. As she reached the bottom, however, this receded slightly as she stared around, unable to do anything else, her body swaying as she fought a losing battle with consciousness. She hadn't been down here in a while, but still, there had been some major changes. Gone was the rubble, the uneven floor, even the dim lighting. In its place was a computer system, an even floor, lights dangling above her head, and a small dojo's worth of equipment. And, sat in a chair right in front of her eyes, was Aidan, her best friend, the Glades' most infamous trickster. Dressed in the same attire as the man who had saved her life, sans mask, with a pair of surgical tongs in hand as he fished a bullet out of his arm, droplets of blood slowly falling to the metal beneath his feet._

 _Sin's foot shifted against the stone step she stood on, and he looked up with a start, rather like a rabbit in the headlights. Blue eyes met hazel as the pair stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, the silence almost deafening._

" _Let's be honest," Aidan finally spoke, voice slow as he rose to his feet, "this is far from the worst thing you've caught me doing."_

 _Sin let out a breathy laugh, and then everything began to spin as the world grew dark, her last sight being the unmasked vigilante rushing to catch her._

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Once she had come to, her injuries all patched up, Aidan had explained everything to her. The Glades needed protecting and, without the Hood, someone had to step up. She didn't know why it had to be him, but Sin knew he was right. Without someone to keep the criminals in some kind of check, the Glades would slaughter itself in a matter of weeks, maybe even days. She had refused to let him do it alone, however. He had the skills, but she had the smarts and contacts needed to keep him alive. Besides, after what had happened to her friend in recent years, coupled with this, she refused to let him out of her sight ever again. It was their partnership that had kept them afloat in their days of petty crime and scams, and it was serving its purpose pretty well in this so far. Well, providing that Aidan didn't get himself killed first.

"You missed your training." Sin remarked, gliding the needle through her friend's newest scar.

"Did I?" He asked, checking his watch. "Crap. She's gonna kill me."

"No, she won't." Sin objected, before making a show of considering. "Although, now I think about it…"

"Oh har dee har har." Aidan laughed sarcastically, before letting silence fall over the pair.

"You going to the hospital tomorrow?" Sin asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer. Any hint of cheerfulness leaked out of Aidan in a moment.

"You know I am." He almost whispered, head falling down to his chest. Sin squeezed his shoulder.

"In that case, we're getting lunch after. Tell her I say 'hi'." She instructed, finishing the last stitch and wiping away the remaining blood with a cloth. "There, all done."

"Nice work." Aidan remarked approvingly, his smile already returning as he ran his eyes over the stitches. "What would I do without you, O Mistress of the Healing Arts?" Sin rolled her eyes.

"You keep on like that," she warned, half-jokingly, "and I'll let Sara knew what you called her after your last session."

"Shutting up now."

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Well, there you go guys, the first chapter of my new Arrow story. I haven't uploaded anything in a while, so please let me know what you think. Love it? Hate it? I need to know.

Also, if you spot any mistakes in my writing, please point them out. As I said, a bit rusty.

Anyway, thanks for reading this far, and I will try to update soon. No promises, though. Mocks really are a pain in the arse.

Until next time,

TimeFury1347


	2. Identity

Aidan dropped low to the ground, virtually laying face down on the wooden surface, as a leg passed through the space he had just inhabited. He was forced to roll to the side a second later, however, as the same leg came slamming down, splintering the boards where his skull had been only moments before. Aidan could feel the _whoosh_ of air against his skin from the close proximity, and kept rolling. The more distance he could put between himself and his attacker, the better.

Once he was sure he was out of danger, at least for the moment, Aidan pushed himself to his feet, backing away from his adversary as he quickly checked himself over. A few bruises, a possible hairline fractured rib and a split lip that was beginning to smart. The taste of iron was growing more prominent on his tongue, but he ignored it, focusing on his seemingly uninjured opponent. The black leather seemed invulnerable to anything he tried, the exposed skin only just beginning to shine with sweat. A small victory, but one nonetheless, given how they'd been at it for nearly half an hour. Normally, it took at least double that time for Aidan to get his opponent to this stage, but tonight, he was on more of an offensive. Or at least, he was trying to be. So far it hadn't exactly been going well for him.

Slipping his hands down to his pockets, fingers wrapping around the familiar moulded leather, he withdrew his batons, metal slicing through the air as he flourished them. One was raised above and behind his head, while the other hovered between the two of them, a shield prepared for whatever came next. After months of learning, failures and practise, Aidan could use the twin steel sticks like they were extensions of his own arms, a skill that had the potential to at least sway the fight slightly in his favour. At least, that was what he hoped.

His leather clad adversary said nothing, only reaching behind her back and snapping out a pair of collapsible escrima sticks. Twirling them slightly, she lunged forward a moment later, spinning through the air only to come crashing down on Aidan, who only just managed to stave off the attack. The two pushed against each other, a battle of strength and will that neither side would give up anytime soon.

"Come on," the woman spoke, blonde hair dangling across her face as she stared into Aidan's eyes with a calculating look, only slightly ruined by the smirk across her lips, "you can do better than that."

The two broke apart, and, as he prepared his next move, Aidan couldn't help but remember his first night up here. The night his vigilante life took its next steps up from amateur to professional, the night he learned what the Glades _really_ needed from its saviour.

The night he met Sara Lance.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

 _The clocktower was seemingly abandoned. Aidan moved up through the levels, a small flashlight casting a steady beam over his surroundings. Once, there might have been something here, although he couldn't imagine what. Offices, perhaps, or maybe apartments. Not that it mattered now. This place had been abandoned for almost as long as he could remember, and it definitely showed. Dust was everywhere, a fine sheet that layered each and every surface. A few rotted cardboard boxes or bits of furniture remained in the few floors, but these were old, slowly but steadily falling apart as time caught up with them._

 _"This place is empty." He said under his breath. "Why am I even bothering with this?"_

 _"Because," Sin's voice sounded exasperated in his ear as she explained the situation to him_ yet again _, "I've been hearing things about this place. Apparently, someone's moved in, and we both know your curiosity won't rest until you know who."_

 _"You know me so well." He muttered, irritated by the fact that she was right. It was a habit he'd developed growing up, wanting to know exactly what was going on in his neighbourhood, especially when it came to people. If someone had decided to take up residence here, he needed to know who. Unknowns like that bugged him to no end._

 _Moving up the last flight of stairs, Aidan came to a stop in the clocktower itself. The massive faces, switched around from his perspective, dominated the four walls, although the machinery that had once powered them was long gone. Metal frames surrounded the central floor space, with plastic sheets blowing slightly in the light breeze coming from several of the glassless window frames. He cast his eyes around carefully. It did seem in better shape than the rest of the building, but that didn't necessarily indicate new ownership. In fact, aside from the absence of dust, there was no sign that anyone else had been up here in years._

 _"I think your sources were wrong." Aidan sighed, lowering his flashlight. "There's no one her…"_

 _A squeak of floorboards behind him, and Aidan turned just in time to see the boot that connected with his face. He was thrown to the side, spinning slightly before crashing to the ground, not before his back connected with part of the metal framework. A groan of pain forced its way out from his throat._

 _"Aidan?" Sin called, concern clear in her tone. "Aidan, what's happening?"_

 _"I take it back." He grunted, staring up at the figure in front of him. "I'm never doubting your intel again."_

 _A woman stood before him, clad in black leather. A jacket and bustier corset covered her top, while her legs were wrapped in pants reminiscent of fishnets. He had already been introduced to her heavy boots, while a mask rested over her eyes, surrounded by long, platinum blonde hair._

 _"Who are you?" He asked, pulling himself to his feet. The woman's only response was to slowly bend her legs, adopting a fighting stance, one that made him back away slightly, hands raised in a pacifying gesture. "I'm not looking for a fight."_

 _"Too bad." The woman responded, the hint of a smirk in her voice. "You got one." And she lunged forward._

 _Aidan had never been so grateful for his hectic upbringing as he span away, flashing the torch in her eyes as she passed within an inch of him. Taking advantage of her momentarily dazed state, he quickly aimed a well-placed kick to the back of her knee, before casting his eyes around for something to use as a weapon. Two metal poles, each roughly the length of his forearm, caught his attention, and he grabbed them, quickly getting used to their weight as he turned to face his adversary._

 _The fight, if it could even be called that, lasted for a minute at best, and even from the start Aidan knew he was screwed. Sure, in his few weeks as a vigilante he'd come up against dozens of thugs, some twice the size of him and wrapped in more muscle than a sea food joint. But this woman was unlike any of them. Her moves were quick, precise and utterly without mercy. Indeed, if his reflexes hadn't been honed from two decades of living in the Glades, he had no doubt that the fight would have ended before it had even begun. It took everything he had to block or dodge her attacks, the growing wooziness from her first hit not exactly helping. And, although he managed to get one or two glancing blows in, it was nothing compared to the veritable shower of hits his body was taking._

 _At last, however, he could go on no longer. His entire being throbbed with pain, his vision was falling apart with every second, and he couldn't find anymore pools of energy to draw upon, his legs barely able to support himself as it was. The metal bars were knocked from his hands, and he quickly found himself in a headlock that, he knew both from experience and the pressure on his spine, was only one sharp tug away from breaking his neck. He closed his eyes, or at least the one that hadn't already swollen shut, and waited for the inevitable._

 _"I'm sorry Charley." He thought, mind slowly growing blank. "I'm so sorry."_

 _A few seconds passed. Then another few. And death didn't come._

 _"Not bad." The voice sounded in his ear. "Not bad at all."_

 _The grasp around his throat loosened, and Aidan fell to his hands and knees, sucking oxygen into his screaming lungs. The sound of footsteps pulled his attention up, and he saw the woman in black standing in front of him, looking down with an appreciative look on her partially covered face, one hand held out towards him. He grabbed it, letting her pull him up with a surprising level of strength. It was only as he straightened up that he noticed the height difference between the two of them, her platinum blonde locks only coming up to the top of his chest._

 _"You've got skill." She told him, taking a few steps back. Aidan noted the lack of sound she made, even with the old floorboards and her thickset boots. "To hold out that long against me, untrained… not many can say the same."_

 _"Thanks, I guess." He managed to get out, chest still heaving in air as one hand lightly massaged his throat. "Although I've got to wonder why I'm not more dead."_

 _"Because I was only asked to test you." The woman explained. "And I think our friend might be a bit annoyed with me if I snapped your neck."_

 _"Our frie…" Aidan began, before realisation struck him and he pressed a finger to his ear._

 _"Cindy," he said slowly, "why did you set a ninja on me?"_

 _"She thought you could use some help." The woman explained after several moments of Sin's nervous stammering. "You have the drive, but it needs channelling. And, if you plan to keep doing what you're doing, you need to be at your best. Which is where I come in." Aidan nodded slowly at the explanation. And, in truth, he knew he wasn't in any position to turn down any offered help. He had just had his ass handed to him, and now the victor was offering to teach him how to do the same to others, those who deserved it a hell of a lot more. He'd be a moron to turn it away._

 _"Alright." He finally agreed. "When do we start?"_

 _"Let's see…" the woman answered, tapping a finger to her chin, "…Now!" And Aidan knew the break was over, as he was quickly dragged back into a world of pain and lightning fast blows._

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

That had been just over three months ago, and he was already showing signs of improvement. His strength, speed, stamina, pain tolerance, it had all shot up thanks to the nightly training sessions. Sara was a terrifying opponent, but an incredible teacher who had seemed to make it her mission to either make him the best he could be, or kill him trying. An alternative that Aidan was very decidedly against.

The training had shown its results in his works almost immediately. Thugs that would've taken him several minutes to take down before were now dealt with in less than one, in such a way that they wouldn't be getting back up for quite a while. Crime had already begun to drop, as more and more criminals learnt the hard way what happened when they tried to work on his turf. And his collection of scars, already impressive before his nightlife began, had finally stopped growing at such a rapid pace. It certainly helped the number of times he could go out on patrol, not having to miss a night or two every week to recover from the growing strain placed on him every time he donned the mask.

Another consequence of these non-lethal punch ups disguised as 'lessons' was the new friendship he was able to cultivate. It had taken Aidan roughly three weeks to learn her real name, after her initial introduction of Taer al-Sahfer (or Yellow Bird, a name that never failed to bring a smile to his face once he'd learnt the meaning). The discovery that it was Sara Lance, a woman presumed lost at sea for the past six years, who was routinely pummelling and teaching him only helped to bring the two together. Even though the time had been short, Aidan already saw her as a part of his strange little family, the older sister he had never had.

That didn't stop him from trying to kick her ass, however.

Their fight went on for another few minutes, the sound of metal clanging and flesh being painfully smacked filling the clocktower. Eventually, however, the match ended in a draw, a situation that was steadily becoming more common as time went on. Aidan had his knife pressed to Sara's stomach, while the woman herself had the young man in yet another headlock. The pair broke apart after a few seconds, both running their hands over the more delicate parts of their injured anatomy.

"Not bad." Sara commented, rubbing her bruised shoulder. "You're getting better. Very slowly," she added, seeing the smirk on her friend's face, "but still good."

"Ah, just you wait." Aidan declared, taking a swig from a water bottle. "I'll beat you one day."

"Never gonna happen." Sara confidently shot the prediction down, before moving back into the makeshift ring. "Again?"

"You're on." The two readied themselves, waiting for the first move. They were interrupted, however, by the chime of a text from Aidan's phone. Laying down his weapons, he picked the device up, scanning the short message.

 **'One truck. Normal Route. Five Minutes.'**

"Sorry to cut this short." Aidan sighed, pocketing both his phone and the two sticks, reaching for the balaclava resting nearby. "Duty calls."

"Aidan." Sara called out, just before he left the room. As he turned to look at her, she smirked. "Whoever it is doing this," she instructed, "kick their ass for me."

He raised his hand in a salute, before continuing towards his motorcycle, mind already ready for what awaited him.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

In the aftermath of the Undertaking, there had been thousands of people left injured, either from the buildings as they came toppling down or from others, both accidental and intentional. And, even once the earthquake had ended, the injuries kept on coming, this time courtesy of the criminals who saw the half-destroyed district as a lawless Promised Land. As such, Glades Memorial Hospital had seen a massive surge in patients, to the extent that it was nearly overwhelmed. And, thanks to the poverty that plagued the Glades, they didn't have the supplies or funding necessary to treat everyone that came through their doors, with many left at risk.

In response to this, FEMA had pledged to bring as much emergency relief as they could to the hospital, sending trucks laden with hope every few days. But recently, some of these had failed to reach their destination. Word on the streets was that an unknown gang was attacking these shipments, killing the drivers and taking their cargo, never to be seen again. Nobody knew who this lot were, but the number of lost trucks was growing in number. If the assault kept up, the hospital wouldn't be able to keep going, having already been pushed to the breaking point. It would only take a few more missing shipments before they lost control completely, and Aidan was sure as hell not going to let that happen on his watch.

The motorbike thrummed beneath him as he watched the road, waiting for the truck to reach him. This road was the shortest to the hospital, an almost straight line to where the medical supplies needed to go. Aidan's fingers tightened around the motorcycle's handlebars as he caught the first rumbles of a deep engine, slowly making its way towards him. Peering down the street, he could see the distant flash of the truck's headlights, and prepared himself to go. As soon as it reached him, he would begin to follow it, keeping a distance but ready in case of any attack. Although, something in his gut told him that something was already up, a suspicion that wasn't helped by the faintest flicker of lights alongside the far-off shape of the truck.

His focus on the truck was broken, however, by the roar of another engine, much closer to him and approaching fast. Twisting around, Aidan barely had time to lock eyes on the red car as it barrelled passed, racing towards the truck at breakneck speed. Cursing under his breath, he sent his bike rocketing forward, loose gravel churning up behind as he turned to follow the newest player on the scene. His plan had vanished entirely from his mind, the safety of the truck suppressed by the burning question of just who it was that had appeared. After several seconds, with the truck growing more prominent in front of him, however, Aidan was forced to admit that maybe the car's appearance wasn't such a bad thing after all, as his suspicion was swiftly changed into a certainty.

Two motorbikes were moving alongside the truck, the bikers' faces hidden behind their tinted helmets. Aidan recognised them from the blurry footage he'd managed to recover after the last truck's disappearance. This was the gang stealing the supplies, or part of it at any rate. The man in the car seemed to recognise this fact too, as he drove straight at the biker on the left. Aidan let himself fall back a few metres as the car passed the truck, forcing the biker off the road. The man fell off his machine, rolling to a stop on the hard cement. Aidan pulled out one of his batons as he drew nearer, watching as the biker slowly began to rise off the ground. A passing _whack_ to the back of the helmeted head, and the figure was down for the count, body spread out in the road. Aidan wasn't sure if the biker was alive or not, but gave a mental shrug at the thought. Most in the Glades were forced to resort to crime to get by, himself included in the past. But stealing medical supplies from a swamped hospital? His death would be no sweat off Aidan's back.

Aidan kept his eyes on the red car in front of him. The driver had swung the vehicle around, facing the direction of the truck once again, and was already racing forwards, with a speed and precision that showed their single minded goal. A rev from behind gave Aidan the information that the other biker had pulled away, heading back to face the new threats. He swerved to the side as the red car passed him, catching a glimpse of the face inside. Young, male, and somewhat familiar. They were gone in the space of a second, and Aidan pulled his bike to a halt as he watched the scene progress. The car and bike drawing closer together, neither looking to have any intention of surrendering in this battle of wills. The pair were seconds from colliding, when Aidan saw the biker reach down and pull out a short, black object, levelling it at the car. A submachine gun.

The spray of bullets sent up sparks from the car, cascading over the hood and almost certainly blinding the driver, if not killing him. This was proved true when the car swerved off the road, moving up a pile of scrap to the side and flipping through the air, crashing down with the wheels spinning over nothing. If the driver wasn't dead, then he was in for one hell of a headache.

Gunning the bike engine, Aidan raced towards the biker, who by this time had turned his own machine and was racing after the truck. As he reached the upturned car, however, his eyes caught on the slowly moving shadow behind the tinted window. It was sluggish, the driver more than likely having hit his head in the crash. Weighing up the options, Aidan pulled the bike to a screeching stop, jumping towards the car door while keeping an eye on the rapidly shrinking biker.

The door refused to open, frame having become mangled and locked. With a grunt of irritation, Aidan pulled out a baton, the metal pole perfect for his current needs. Locating the door's hinges, or where they were meant to be beneath the steel frame, he smashed the baton against them, using all of his strength to slowly knock the joint out of place. After several hits, his work paid off when the metal door visibly loosened, free from it confines. Pushing his fingers against the twisted frame, he tightened his muscles as the door steadily shifted open, groaning as he heaved. Eventually, he tossed the gnarled metal away, leaving the car's interior open to him.

Returning the baton to its home, he reached in, getting a grip on the unconscious form's red hoodie before dragging him out, briefly mocking the lack of a seatbelt. If one had been there, maybe he wouldn't have had to waste time. There were a number of scraps across his face, along with a slowly purpling bruise on the forehead, and Aidan's own face twisted in anger as familiarity flooded to him. Of course it was Harper, who else would it be. As Aidan dragged the man out fully, propping him against the upturned car, the man's eyes began to flutter as consciousness returned to him. Taking advantage of this dazed state, Aidan forced Harper's chin around, so that the two were looking eye to eye.

"Don't let me catch you out here again." He growled, voice dropping several octaves, before he let the head drop against the dizzy man's chest and quickly returned to his bike, racing in the direction the biker and truck had gone. He had lost precious time in dealing with the wannabe hero, time he desperately needed to make up for.

After a few minutes, Aidan reached a crossroad, and pulled his bike to a stop in front of what lay in the road. As he took in the sight, his fists tightened in their gloves, and he felt an overwhelming urge to punch something.

Two dead bodies, dressed in FEMA uniforms. Faded tire tracks, of both the truck and bike. And no truck with medical supplies in sight. He had failed. Again.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

"Who is he, Roy?"

Not for the first time, Roy found himself in the familiar setting of a police interrogation room. His hands were cuffed to the metal table, he could see one camera out the corner of his eye and, if he turned around, there would be the two-way mirror that hid whoever else was watching. Although, for once in this setting, he was telling the truth.

"I already told you, I don't know." He answered with complete sincerity. The vigilante had saved his life, and he'd give anything to know who he could thank. Although, even if he did know, there was no way he'd be telling the cops. Laurel, on the other hand, didn't seem to accept it.

"So you just _happen_ to have one of his arrows." She said, holding up the red flechette that hadn't left his person since the night it had saved his life.

"I hear he likes green ones." His sarcasm as he attempted to keep his irritation in check only served to further stoke Laurel's growing anger.

"Do you think this is funny?" She snapped. "Because I can charge you with obstruction right now!" She paused, looking to visibly calm down as she took a seat across from him.

"Look," she began again, "I used to feel the same way as you. He has this way of… seducing you." Her eyes grew hazy as she spoke, old memories resurfacing. "Making you feel like he's some kind of guardian angel." And, as soon as the almost wistful look had appeared, it was replaced by a cold look that almost made him shiver. "But he's not. He causes chaos and death. And you trying to emulate him just makes the situation worse."

"Half the city fell into a hole." Roy was nearing the end of his tether by this point. "I'd say the situation's already worse." It wasn't the vigilante's fault what happened. He couldn't have done any more than what he did. Roy knew it, most of the Glades knew it. So why couldn't Laurel, who had clearly believed in the Hood before? He let out a breath, trying to calm down again. "Look, some of us are just trying to make things better."

"Who, like you and the Hood?" Seriously, this woman would not give this up!

"Look, there-" Roy paused, letting out a breath and marshalling his thoughts. "There are others. Others out there who are willing to do what's right. I've seen them." A flash of blond and black leather crossed his eyes. Along with a more recent image, of a skull mask and dangerous eyes.

"I'm not interested in anyone else." Laurel's voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned his focus back onto her. "Just him." And Roy couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for the vigilante, face to face with the force of nature that seemed ready to hunt him down and string him up.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Oliver waited in the corridor, watching as Thea's face flitted between looks of concern, acceptance, and downright murderous rage. He had no idea what Roy had done to earn such a reaction, but he was just glad that, for once, he wasn't on the receiving end of it.

Roy… The thought of Thea's ex-criminal boyfriend sent a surge of uncertainty through him. Ever since he had saved him, Oliver knew that Roy had been changed by that night. He was looking for the vigilante, trying to do his work and getting into even more trouble doing so. He'd seen the police and hospital records of Roy during his five month 'sabbatical', and what he had found filled him with unease. The kid, by all rights, should be dead. He probably would be if not for the skull faced vigilante. Oliver knew that Roy would need to be sorted out before he became any more of a loose cannon. The only problem was deciding on what to do with him. Should he take the young man under his wing? Or ensure that he gave up his vigilante tendencies, by any means necessary?

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, and he stood as both Roy and Laurel came through. The young man's face was badly scraped, and he looked to be barely containing his anger.

"What happened?" Thea asked, moving towards her boyfriend. "Are you hurt?"

"Fender bender." Roy grunted, although it clearly wasn't the case.

"He totalled his car playing Hood junior." Laurel corrected, and Oliver felt a pang in his chest at the venom in his friend's voice at the mention of his alter-ego.

"At least it wasn't my car." Roy shrugged uncaringly, and Oliver had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Did this kid even care about what might happen to him?

"Don't say anything!" Thea snapped, her patience already worn thin. "I already called you an attorney."

"That won't be necessary, we're not pressing charges." That surprised Oliver, since Laurel's recent attitude to vigilantes seemed to suggest the opposite. "So long as he gives up looking for trouble." Thea huffed.

"Might as well tell him to give up breathing." She bit out, before falling into a quiet, very angry conversation with her boyfriend. Oliver took the opportunity to move closer to Laurel.

"I'll talk to him." He promised, already plotting out a very pointed conversation. Whichever version of him it took to get the message through, that point might be metaphorical or painfully literal.

"Ask him if he knows anything about the Vigilante." Laurel requested, eyes never leaving Roy. "Roy has obviously forged some sort of connection to him. Maybe it goes both ways."

 _It really doesn't_. Oliver thought. Out loud, he said, "Doesn't sound like the Vigilante to have a groupie."

"That's just it- we don't know anything about the Vigilante." Laurel's voice was filled with frustration, along with a determination that sent a chill down Oliver's back. "Except for every time that he shows up, all hell breaks loose. It has to stop, Ollie." Laurel turned to him, and Oliver caught the look in her eyes. It was the same look that he must had carried ever since that terrible night. Coupled with a burning fury that could have melted steel on its own.

"He has to be stopped."

And with that, Laurel turned to leave, and Oliver began to move towards the still-arguing couple, feeling as though another piece of his heart had just been torn from his chest.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The sound of metal clattering to the ground filled Oliver's ears as he lowered his bow, eyes locked on the man in front of him. Stood between the two trucks, he seemed to fill the space completely, muscular physique coupling with the clawed weapons he held to demonstrate the clear threat he represented. Behind the man, Oliver could only watch as China White clambered into one of the truck's cabins, stepping over the stabbed driver as she moved to steal even more medical supplies from the injured and dying. The urge to put an arrow in her back filled Oliver, but, with the briefest glance towards the sliced-up shafts littering the ground, he knew it would only be a waste.

After his 'chat' with Roy the night before, it hadn't taken Oliver long to come to the conclusion that something desperately needed to be done. Roy's account had made it seem like death was just hovering over the Glades, hospital or not, and what he had seen at Glades Memorial didn't exactly do much to refute that claim. Massive overcrowding, a pitifully low number of doctors and nurses, and injuries that made Oliver surprised their recipients weren't dead. There had been shrapnel wounds, partially and fully missing limbs, internal injuries that had people hooked up to more machines than he could fit arrows in his quiver. There was even a little girl who couldn't have been older than eight, her head and torso wrapped in bandages while a pump did her breathing for her.

And then, Alderman Blood had served to lay everything out for him in a neat little package, amidst the sound of his followers. The cops didn't care, patients were dying, and it was his family's fault. His mother had played a part in the destruction of the Glades, and that hatred had spilled over on to his shoulders. Oliver couldn't find it in him to blame anyone for feeling this way. If he had been in their shoes, if he had lost his home and family, he would be angry too. Besides, it wasn't like Oliver Queen, the returned billionaire, had done anything to help. But seeing their faces, hearing their insults, had served another purpose, besides showing their horrors and adding more shame to his family. It had lit a fire within him, one that screamed out for justice for the victims louder than anything had before, even the List. He couldn't punish the conspirators that had caused the quake any more than he already had, but that didn't mean he couldn't do something to ease the ongoing suffering. A plan had formed in his mind, one that needed both his night and day personas to work. His parents had dragged their names through the dirt, all for a scheme that sacrificed hundreds for a failed goal. Oliver had sworn to save his city the year before, but that couldn't happen when the city was pulling itself apart. Before he could continue his crusade, he had to rebuild what had been lost.

The only obstacle in his way was China White and her newest partner. An obstacle that the city could not afford to fall to.

"No kill shots?" The man called out, sounding almost disappointed by the fact. "I was promised a fight. I hope you haven't lost your nerve." Oliver ground his teeth at the jeer. This man was willing to let innocents die, just to satiate his desire for a good fight? Well, if he wanted a fight, then the Arrow wasn't going to deny him one.

"Find out." He growled, ready for whatever came next.

The clawed man charged, speeding up in the short gap separating them before jumping, one had raised ready to bring serrated death down upon him. Oliver barely raised his bow in time to deflect the hit, before he was quickly being forced back, body weaving from left to right as fist after bladed fist came flying at him. Whoever this guy was, he was good, attacks flowing like a waterfall and leaving no room for any kind of counter. As the pair fought, Oliver could see the truck that China had hijacked begin to move, engine working to pull the massive vehicle along and away from those who needed it.

What no one noticed, however, not the criminals nor the vigilante, was the small device stuck behind the trailer's licence plate, red light blinking steadily.

They were now away from the remaining truck, and, as he blocked yet another razor sharp swing, Oliver quickly cast his eye around for options. He couldn't find this man in the open at close range, he had too much of a melee advantage. He needed somewhere tight, somewhere penned in enough to nullify the man's powerful swings. A narrow alley running alongside the depot's pipework caught his attention, and he shifted his feet, leading his opponent into the thin space. As the pair entered the pathway, Oliver readied his bow and, as yet another clawed hand was raised, he struck, spinning the man and pressing him against the metal tubes. The claws were nullified, stuck between their owner and the hard surface, all that remained was to end the fight for good.

The sound of police sirens suddenly caught Oliver's attention, the break in the struggle allowing him to focus on his surroundings again, and he could see out the corner of his eye as multiple police vehicles drew near, filling the entrance to the depot. This was enough for his adversary, who used the lapse in concentration to push back, shoving Oliver away and trying to force one clawed weapon through the Arrow's face. The vigilante's bow whirled to block this, and the pair ended up inches apart, weapons locked together as each man pushed against the other, a break in the fight that, he knew from experience, would not last long. As he felt the pressure in his arms build, however, Oliver was growing less and less sure that, should something spark off their conflict again, he would be the one to walk away. This man was good, had the advantage over him in close quarters, and had clearly been preparing for this. It would take a miracle for the vigilante to win right now, something that Starling had been in short supply of recently.

"Starling City police!" One voice called out, and Oliver twisted his head to look. At least a dozen cops, all with guns that were trained directly on him. "You're surrounded. Put down your weapons or we will open fire." Oliver didn't hear this, however, his eyes latching on to the figure of Laurel, right in the middle of the men who wouldn't hesitate to shoot him. For a moment, the pair could only stare at each other, the connection forged the year before freezing the two. For a moment, it was like the Undertaking had never happened, like they were still allies, working together to try and make the city a safer, better place.

The connection was broken suddenly, as smoke seemed to explode from nowhere. The thick cloud blocked Oliver's sight of the police, although their shouts, pounding footsteps and, most audibly, gunshots still filled his ears. Grabbing the chance, he twisted his bow, forcing one clawed device through the pipes behind his head. The steam flew directly into his foe's eyes, distracting him enough for Oliver to escape, moving swiftly through the twisting paths as he looked for a way out. A moving figure atop the building to his left caught his eye, and he turned, hand reaching for a grappling arrow. He was stopped for a moment as pain flared in his leg, a bullet from one of the cops pursuing him passing through the outer layer of muscle. Before he could reach for a flashbang, more smoke exploded around him, although this time Oliver caught a glimpse of a small canister as it bounced off the ground, thrown from the building he was headed towards, before it released its screening cloud. He nocked the arrow and fired, judging where the ledge was through the smoke, and allowed the line to pull him up, away from the police left stumbling around, trying to find him.

As he pulled himself up onto the rooftop, he let out a small hiss of pain due to his newest wound, before turning around and looking down. The police had no idea where he had gone, guns at the ready as they spread out to search. And there was Laurel, looking around in the way a predator would look for their escaped prey. Oliver's eyes remained on her, a sadness growing inside his chest. His friend, the woman he had loved, hunting him like a dog.

"You know," a voice called out from behind him, "it really does amaze me how they never think to look up."

Oliver had spun around at the first word, bow raised with another razor-sharp arrow ready, although he lowered it as he caught sigh of who was speaking. The man in the skull mask, the one who had been holding the Glades together in his absence. And the man who had, quite possibly, just saved his life.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The Hood was something of an urban legend to Starling. There was no refuting the fact that he existed, but everything else was shrouded in mystery. Until the Undertaking had been revealed, there had been little to no connection between his targets, only their wealth and status, and the body trail he left in his wake was impressive in and of itself. Those he didn't kill were often left gibbering messes, only serving to grow the vigilante's reputation as a symbol of fear and dark justice.

Aidan had, of course, heard pretty much every story or theory about the man, and had built up an image in his head. A merciless hunter, pursuing his prey until they could run no further, and then submitting them to every second of pain they had dealt out to others. He was the guardian that the city needed, one willing to dive right into the filth in order to keep it from flooding onto the streets. This view was part of what had inspired Aidan to don the mask in the first place, to stand up and fight where no one else would. And, as he let his eyes take in the bow wielding man, he was not disappointed.

"Who are you?" The Hood called out, words sounding deeper through his clear voice modifier. Aidan didn't answer for a minute, never moving as he finished taking in the hooded man.

"Whatever the Glades needs me to be." He finally answered, voice similarly distorted. Sin had insisted on getting him one, and he had to admit, she was right. A better disguise for his speech, and much easier on his throat than any of his methods.

"You got a name?" The Hood asked, moving closer towards him. Aidan noticed the slight limp of the hooded man and, glancing down, spotted the slight crimson stain leaking down the green leather pants. He pushed this fact away, however, at the thought of a name. He had never given himself one, and the public for the most part had no idea he existed. Flitting through ideas, his mind finally latched on to one.

"I'm partial to Damocles." He said simply, and could already feel it fit. The Sword of Damocles, a warning to those in power about what would happen should they fail. Yes, Damocles would fit him just fine.

"But I already know who you are." He continued. "The Hood, Starling City's shadowy protector." Although the hood obscured it for the most part, Aidan thought he could see the vigilante's face tighten at the words.

"That's not who I am anymore." He almost whispered, words coming out in a sombre tone. Aidan nodded.

"That I gathered." At the vigilante's return of focus, he elaborated. "You were clearly holding back in that fight. Nothing major, but it was there. IF you were still the old you, you could've put an arrow through him before he even had a chance to reach you."

"You were watching the whole time?" Aidan couldn't help but smile at the man's words.

"I've been here for twenty minutes." He explained. "The only reason I wasn't down there was because you beat me to it. Besides," he shrugged, "I don't like my chances against the Triad _just_ yet."

"Then why even show up," the vigilante growled, "if you were just going to watch?"

"Partly because I suspected you might need my help," he shot back, temper flaring at the implied insult, "but mostly because of this." Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a small tablet, brining up a street map of the Glades with a small red dot moving along the roads. "I placed trackers on both trucks. With this, I can find out where the shipments have been taken and learn their next target." Sliding the tablet away, he turned his focus back to the vigilante. "But I need your help."

At the silence that met his words, Aidan continued. "I can find out what I need, no problem. But, after what I've seen tonight, there's no way I can do this on my own. So, I'm suggesting a partnership. I find out where they strike next, and you help me stop them. For good." The vigilante didn't speak, seeming to think things over for a second.

"Why should I trust you?" He eventually asked. "What's to say you won't just tip the Triad off that I'm coming?" Aidan fought to control himself at that, muscles tensing up painfully tight.

"This city is my home, as much as it is yours." He replied coldly. "The longer the Triad are allowed to run free like this, the more damage they do and the more lives they put at risk. I want them gone, the same as anyone else."

Silence fell over the rooftop again, seconds ticking by as neither party moved, waiting for the other to slip up first. Aidan could feel the vigilante's eyes practically dissecting him, but he stood tall, refusing to show any sign of weakness. And, at last, a green gloved hand was stretched out towards him. Instead of shaking straight away, Aidan reached into another pocket, digging out an old flip phone and pressing it into the man's hand.

"I'll see what I can find. Be ready." With those words, both men knew that the meeting was over. Aidan turned and headed towards the edge of the building, his motorcycle waiting in the alley below. As he reached the ledge, he turned back, looking to where the bow wielding vigilante was nocking another arrow.

"By the way." He called out, catching the man's attention. "It's good to have you back." And then he dropped, gripping a projecting pipe as he lowered himself towards the ground. He had an agreement to uphold.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

In the part of the Glades that was still standing, sitting on the bed in his slightly run-down house, Roy Harper stared down at the two items clutched in his hands. In one hand, a paycheck worth two weeks of his wages at Verdant. And in the other, the hōzen that Thea's brother had given her after his return to Starling last year. But, deeper down, the pair represented something else, a choice he would have to make over what happened next in his life. One would see the end of his work to protect the Glades. And the other, the end of his relationship.

For most, this would be a simple choice. Not so for Roy. It wasn't a matter of which one he liked more, or which he could do the most good with. On the one hand, Thea was the best thing to have happened to him in years. Where others had simply given up on him before, labelling him criminal or just not worth the effort, she had persisted. That stubbornness, that refusal to accept any answer that didn't suit her, had pulled him out of his old life and into a better one. Whereas a year ago he would still be snatching purses and jacking cars to get enough money to feed himself, now he had something approaching a stable life, with an honest job that had fashioned him into a better state than he had ever been in before. And, of course, he had Thea. Someone who loved him, who cared for him, who gave him a sense of belonging. It was a feeling that made him warm inside, and he had every intention of keeping that feeling for as long as he could.

But on the other hand, there was the Glades. A decrepit, crime-riddled city district, and one that many in the city would be happy to let crumble into dust completely, finishing the work that had been started by Malcolm Merlyn. But it was still his home. He had lived here since he was born, knew the streets and people like the back of his hand. It had supported him growing up, had taught him how to live and keep on going. And now, it was hurting. The Glades was falling apart, and no one seemed to care. It had driven him almost mad before he started, an ever-present cry inside of him demanding that he do _something._ There was also the Hood to consider, along with the newer vigilantes in town. If they were willing to do something, why should he be allowed to simply kick back and wait for things to blow over? The Hood, the woman in black, the man in the skull mask, all of them had fought to save so many lives, including his own, and he had the ability to do the same. Doing what they did, helping to pull the Glades back together, it was the least he could do to thank them. And even without them, it wasn't like any of this was personal. It was bigger than he was, bigger than anyone. Why should he stop?

Roy squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to reach a decision. This wasn't his brain against his heart, if it was he'd have been done hours ago. It was his heart against itself, two halves of his being that were almost ripping him apart. Thea's words slid to the forefront of his mind.

 _"Just because I can't change you doesn't mean I have to let you be in my life until you get yourself killed."_

Forcing back the tears in his eyes that threatened to fall, Roy quickly crammed the two items into a drawer, slamming it shut before letting his head drop into his hands. She was right, as much as he hated it. She couldn't change him, nobody could. Who he was, deep down, was set in stone. Sighing, he stood up, desperate for any distraction to put his mind off the choice he would have to make.

He just hoped he was making the right choice.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Hidden in the shadows of the alleyway, Aidan watched in silence as the body of the FEMA truck driver dropped to the hard concrete, surrounded by the four criminals that had brought the poor man to this end. His body, already tensed up in anticipation, began to hum with anger as the bleach blonde woman knelt down, using the dead man's jacket to wipe her knife down, the knife that had been shoved through the man only moments before. That man, and the organisation he had worked for, had only been trying to make life better for the victims of a horrific attack, and she had cut him down like he was nothing, an annoying pest between her and the drugs she sought. Well, after tonight, Aidan would make sure that she would never lay a single finger on them. No matter what, this would end.

But for now, he stayed where he was, waiting fore the plan to begin, and for his time to strike.

Finding out about this attack had not been easy. Following the truck taken at the depot, it had led Aidan to an old warehouse that the local Triad were apparently using as their base of operations for their newest 'venture'. Sneaking by the guards, he had watched as the truck was unloaded before being taken away, most likely to be stripped down for parts. The drugs themselves were sorted and repackaged, ready for their next destination. Aidan knew what would happen. The drugs would be sold to school kids, the Triad's usual target for this sort of thing. Some of it might possibly end up in the hospital, in too small an amount to make any major difference and at a cost several times higher than its worth. Just the thought made him sick.

It had taken several days of surveillance before he found anything out. Earlier that night, he had made his way inside and eavesdropped on a very interesting meeting. Another attack, not long from now, on another emergency run. Just hearing the chatter had set Aidan on edge. The hospital was rapidly growing worse and, if this attack was successful, he knew that it would be almost impossible for the doctors to even attempt to keep the place from shutting down. As soon as they had left, he had made his way out, rushing to his bike as he rapidly texted the relevant information to his newest ally. They didn't have long; the attack was minutes away. The Hood had called back, and the two vigilantes had managed to cobble together a plan of attack as they raced to the scene. It was rushed, but it should prove good enough. He could only hope that they would succeed in carrying it out.

The blonde, Aidan now knew her to be China White, a leading Triad member in Starling, spoke to her two men, the pair nodding in response. Aidan didn't know what she was saying, but he could guess the general idea: 'Do your job, kill anyone in your way.' He gently pulled his batons from their pockets, letting the metal swing lazily between his fingers as he waited. The two Triad members headed towards the truck, heading out of Aidan's field of vision, although the sound of the truck door opening was loud enough to reach his ears. He cast his eye around nervously, looking for a sign as one of the men's head became visible behind the windscreen. Where the hell was he?

He didn't have to wait long to find out.

The rev of an engine caught his ear, and Aidan watched as the newly-minted Arrow sped around the corner, bow already in hand. As he neared the truck he raised it, firing an arrow through the glass that erupted in a blinding flash. Turning to shield his eyes, Aidan smirked as he heard a very satisfying thud from the man in the truck, now laying prone outside it, visible under the belly of the vehicle. As the Arrow brought his bike to a stop, Aidan quickly shook his arms, ready to move.

China turned to her remaining man. "Go!" She ordered. Aidan's eyes followed the running man, a small amount of concern growing in his mind that he quickly shook away. The Arrow told him he'd deal with it, and the brief glimpse of the masked man in the alley opposite him helped to confirm this. Besides, it was his turn at last. Taking a breath, he stepped out into the road, slowly walking up behind the two remaining figures while their attention was on the Arrow, stalking towards them.

"I told you." China's voice was almost dripping with glee as she called out to the hooded man. "On time to die."

"Maybe." The Arrow called out, tossing his bow from one hand to the other.

"But he won't be alone." Aidan continued, now stood almost directly behind the unwitting pair. He swung his baton, the metal aimed for China's head. The woman, spotting him as she turned to identify the newest threat, was fast enough to dodge, raising her own weapon for a counter. The clawed man tried to slice him across the back as he was focused on the Triad member, but the Arrow was too fast, blocking the blades with his bow and slamming his fist into the man's jaw. The fight was on.

The next few minutes was something of a blur to Aidan as the four fought. He shifted between the two targets at least a dozen times, with batons, elbows and legs flying as he worked to take them down. The two were good, and he knew that, had the Arrow not been there, fighting alongside him, he most likely wouldn't have lasted even half as long as he did. Even with the second vigilante, there were already three bloody streaks across his body, although thankfully none were deep enough to force him back. His blood was pumping as he span at China, first baton then elbow slamming into her. With a hard foot to the woman's stomach, he sent her flying back, crashing into a K-rail. Allowing himself a moment of victory, he was forced to hurl himself to the side as the truck sped past, bright headlights dazzling him for a second as he carefully rose off the ground. The effort was futile, however, as he was knocked back down almost instantly, jaw throbbing. China had recovered, decking him before running after the truck. As she grabbed a hold of the back, Aidan quickly pulled himself up before running for his bike. The truck was too far away for him to try the same thing, and, while the Arrow seemed to be on top of things with the clawed man, he couldn't say the same for whoever it was driving right now.

Racing after the truck, Aidan could only watch the scuffle taking place in the distance. China had pulled herself along the side of the vehicle, and was now stood by the driver's window, arm thrust through the opening as she fought with the man inside. The fight, however, was having an unintended consequence, distracting both combatants from what direction they were headed. The truck was steadily drifting to the side and, as Aidan watched, ran into some debris, the impact bringing the vehicle to a jarring halt. White hair flew as China was hurled forward, but she wasn't the most immediate concern.

Aidan didn't wait for his bike to screech to a halt as he reached the scene, jumping off and darting for the truck, bike falling to the ground behind him. As he neared, the door was pushed open, the dark-skinned driver pulling himself back out to ground level. As he did so, his foot slipped on the metal frame, and Aidan quickly grabbed the man's arm, keeping him on his feel as he steadied himself. The trace amount of blood on the man's head told the young vigilante that the crash may have had a greater impact than he'd anticipated.

"You alright?" He asked, words garbled both by his modulator and the weight of the muscled older man.

"Peachy." Came the rough response, sarcasm bringing a quick smile to his face. "Wait, where's China?"

"Got thrown off in the crash." Aidan informed him, free hand pulling out his baton. "She can't have gone far."

The pair began to move, the man pulling out a gun while Aidan's other hand found its own weapon. Moving around the edge of the truck's crumpled bonnet, the pair were taken by surprise as China seemed to materialise out of nowhere, knocking the gun away and kicking the vigilante square in the ribs, right where her knife had cut him only minutes before. As the air was forced out of him, pain flaring along the impact area, Aidan fell back, weapons dropping with a clatter as his hands flew to stem the sudden blood flow. His foot caught on a loose piece of debris, and he fell, forced to watch as, once again, China and the dark-skinned man fought.

This time, the fight seemed a lot more one-sided. The woman was clearly out for blood, forcing her opponent on the defensive as her knife flew through the air, ready to take advantage of any weakness. The man put up a good fight, but, finally, she got a lucky hit in, sending the bigger man to his knees. There was a flash of steel as a switchblade appeared in the man's hand, but it wouldn't be enough. Desperately looking around, Aidan quickly grabbed and hurled one of his batons, the heavy metal knocking the knife from China's grasp. A second later, the woman was pulled away as a bola wrapped around her, pressing her tightly against a nearby utility pole. Aidan didn't need to guess where that had come from, as the hooded figure of the vigilante appeared, moving to check on the larger man.

"You've changed." China remarked. "You would have killed me by now if you hadn't."

A hand was thrust in front of Aidan, and he grabbed it as the dark-skinned man pulled him to his feet. His teeth gritted as the move agitated his injuries, but he managed to stay upright as the man let go.

"You good?" He asked, and Aidan shrugged in response.

"Been better." He muttered, carefully bending to pick up the nearby baton. The man did the same, passing him the weapon's twin. Aidan huffed out a laugh as he pulled the curved knife from where it had stuck in the pole, pushing both into his pocket. He'd find a use for it, he was sure.

"The police can take the shipment the rest of the way." The Arrow spoke, turning to face the two other men. As his gaze passed over Aidan, the man nodded slightly. He knew what it meant. And, while he still liked to work in his own little circle, it would be nice to know there was someone out there to back him up, should he need it. Plus, the assurance that the bow-wielder wouldn't be hunting him down anytime soon didn't hurt.

Sending a matching nod in return, Aidan made his way over to his fallen bike, heaving it up and setting off back to base. He could hear more voices behind him, but didn't care. After tonight, all he wanted was to get patched up and sleep for a very long time. A month sounded nice.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

 _'After a prolonged pursuit, police have arrest Chien Na Wei, a high-ranking member of the local Chinese Triad, which was responsible for the recent hijackings of pharmaceuticals bound for Glades Memorial. Representatives praise the efforts of the SCPD in saving the hospital from shutting down, though some sources say the Vigilante may have been involved.'_

Down in the Crypt, Aidan was, once again, sat in the makeshift hospital, eyes glued to the small television that had been set up. One had was playing with the curved blade taken from the earlier fight, spinning it around his finger, while Sin finished off his stitches. Three new scars crossed his body, with a large patch of purpling bruises growing halfway along the lowest one.

"Good to see the cops in this city are as efficient as ever." He mocked, before hissing at a particularly painful push of the needle. "Hey, watch what you're doing!" He complained, looking down at his hard-working friend.

"Oh, don't be such a baby." Sin shot back. "I'm almost done." Another few deft movements, and she stood back up. "There. Now, would baby wike a wowwipop?" Aidan pouted slightly, before realising what he was doing.

"Not funny." Sin laughed as he stood up, carefully testing the stitches before moving back into the hub.

"Oh, cheer up." The girl told him. "Medicine's getting to the hospital, the Triad's been kicked back again, and we get the night off. How's it get any better?"

"You told Sara about what happened?" Aidan asked, incredulous. The only time he'd ever get a night off from training would be if he was dead, and they both knew it.

"Nah." Sin waved it off. "She called, something about personal business. Told me to tell you."

"Right…" He mused, wondering for a minute before brushing his suspicions aside. Sara had more than earned the right to her own privacy. And anyway, he was far too scared of the blonde ninja to even try and stick his nose in.

"So," Sin clapped her hands, drawing his attention as he quickly pulled a shirt over his head, "we goin' food or movie?" Her question was answered a moment later as her friend's stomach growled loudly. Between work shifts, training and stakeouts over the past few days, he hadn't had much time to eat anything more filling than the occasional cereal bar. Sin took it in her stride, though, grabbing his hand and tugging him behind her, in a way that had been ingrained into the both of them over the last ten years.

"Come on," she called back to him, "there's this new Mexican place I want to try." Aidan could only laugh as he gave in, letting himself be pulled up the winding stairs. After all he'd done, he had most definitely earned a night off.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The hōzen, sat atop the file she had been working on, managed to drag every ounce of concentration in her head towards it. Staring at the little stone, Thea's eyes began to move upwards, towards the person who had placed it there.

"If I want to stay, do I keep it or give it back?" Roy asked her. "You were a bit unclear."

Her eyes could not leave him, his words filling her with a hope that had been painfully lacking in her lately. "You mean it?" She asked, her words tentative, overwhelmed by what this could mean.

"No more fighting." Roy promised. "You are the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and it's not like the Glades really needs some hothead running around trying to get himself killed anymore." A skull passed over his eyes, before Thea's beaming smile pushed the image away. "I'm done trying to be a hero."

Rising from her seat, Thea quickly pulled Roy into a tight hug, one that he didn't hesitate to return. Above everything else, it was this feeling, this warmth that he had missed the most. It had haunted him like an ever-present torture through all of his thoughts, and now it was back. But even as he enjoyed the sensation, he could still feel the slight weight in his back pocket, the shape of the crimson flechette pressing against his skin. And something inside him, very deep down, twisted painfully at the combination of these two feelings which never should have met.

In truth, he had only just managed to make this decision. Ten minutes ago, he had been trying to build up the resolve to either tell Thea, or destroy both the rock and the cheque. He hadn't been kidding when he said he didn't do well with ultimatums. And then _he_ had shown up. The Vigilante, the Hood. The man who had saved his life had finally come back, and Roy was more than ready to join him, to thank him by falling in behind him in the fight for the city. What he had been told had forced him to do a complete 180.

 _"To do what I do, I need intel. You can be my eyes and ears in the Glades. That's how you can save the city."_

Roy hadn't wasted a second before agreeing. He would always want to help, he couldn't change that. But now, his mission had changed. He wouldn't fight, but he would learn. He would listen and watch, hearing what was going on and seeing the truth among the lies, to help the Vigilante save his city. He just wished he didn't have to lie to Thea in this way. To break her trust again, after only just regaining it.

"Listen," Thea said slowly, pulling away from him, "I've been doing some thinking of my own lately."

"That's never a good sign." Roy interjected, the light smirk slightly spoiling his mask of false concern. "You sure you feel alright?"

"Oh, very funny." Thea shot back. "Just…just listen. Please?" Roy nodded.

"Look, I really like you, Roy, and I'm glad we've been able to spend this time together. Even with all that's happened, these have been some of the best times of my life when I'm with you." She took a deep breath, and Roy could see her visibly shudder before she began to speak again. "But it just doesn't feel right anymore. We've argued more in the last few weeks than we have since we got together, and that plus your night life…"

"But, I gave that up." Roy insisted, mind working overtime. Was this what he thought this was?

"I know you did." Thea quickly corrected herself. "But that's not the point. You were going out, night after night, getting yourself nearly killed, and you didn't even tell me until I literally forced the truth out of you. And then, when I begged and begged for you to stop, you wouldn't. You'd lie, go behind my back, anything except actually listen to me. So, for now, I think it's best if we break up." Roy was about to interject, when Thea's hand was quickly raised in front of his mouth. "I'm not saying this has to be permanent, or that I want you to leave. I don't. I'm not lying when I say that I care about you, I do. On some level, I think I still love you. And yes, you did give me back the stone. But that's only the beginning. I can't trust that you won't just go back on your deal when you see something that you want to help with. I still want you in my life, I still want you to be my friend. But until that trust is back, I just can't be with you. I know this is hard to hear, but…"

"No." Roy stopped her. "You're right." He sighed. "You're right, I lied to you, for months. And I'm sorry about that. But I understand. This isn't the first time I've been dumped, and it probably won't be the last."

"I know that this probably isn't how you wanted this to go," Thea admitted, "but I just need some time. You're a great guy, Roy, really, and I know that any girl out there would be lucky to have you."

"Well, I am quite the catch." Roy said snootily, puffing himself up and gripping at a non-existent lapel. This brought Thea to laughter in a matter of seconds, and the room softly echoed with the pair's chuckles.

"So, are you alright with this?" Thea asked again, and Roy gently grabbed her hand in his.

"Of course, I am." He relieved her. "It doesn't matter whether I'm your boyfriend or just your friend. I'm here for you, for as long as you need me. Besides," he admitted, "you're pretty much the only girl who would actually put up with me." Thea laughed, before holding out her arms.

"Friends?"

"Friends." Roy confirmed, scooping his ex into another embrace, although this one had a very distinct difference. Where before he had felt conflicted, now it was as though that tension inside of him had been lifted away. Some of it was still there, of course, snug at the base of his gut, but now there was some hope in him that things might be able to work. They weren't perfect, not by a long shot, but he still had Thea in his life, as well as his mission for the Glades, a situation he hadn't thought possible when he'd came in. And, come hell or high water, Roy swore that he would be there for both of them when they needed him. He'd find a way to make it work. He had to.

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 **Ok guys, here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy.**

 **I'll admit, the ending isn't great. This is the first breakup I've ever done, and I wasn't quite sure how to end it. Any suggestions for updates are welcome, as are just normal reviews.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, and I'll see you around**

 **TimeFury1347**


	3. Broken Dolls

"So wait, you just dropped in through the skylight?"

It was the morning after the fight against the Triad for the medical supplies, and Aidan was exhausted. Once his late-night Mexican food binge with Sin had ended (the new place had been surprisingly good), he had had to send an anonymous call to the SCPD about the warehouse being used to store the stolen drugs. The call had been quick, but Aidan knew that, by the time the police eventually stormed the building, most if not all the supplies would be gone. When it came to covering their tracks, especially from the authorities, organisations like the Triad were annoyingly efficient about it, leaving nothing that could lead an investigation further into their work. Aidan would have gone himself, but he knew that he was in no condition to take down an entire _warehouse_ of Triad enforcers anytime soon. Still, the cameras he had planted during his stakeout should give the cops what they needed.

By the time he had eventually gotten to bed, the sun was only minutes away from poking up above the horizon, and, thanks to the freshness of his wounds, the ache he felt along his chest and stomach did nothing to help improve the three hours of rest he had gotten. The bruising was even now throbbing away atop his ribs, and the long knife cuts over his torso, while less noticeable, also seemed to strain at every movement he made. Despite this, however, the pain he felt had considerably numbed since receiving the hits, thanks in no small part to his upbringing. One of the first things he had learnt in the Glades was pain tolerance, a skill he had been forced to develop and use since the day he turned ten. It had proved almost invaluable in his nocturnal activities, allowing him to take a beating and still be back on his feet by the next day, and had managed to suppress the worst of his recent wounds. Still, after what he had been through, even he needed some time off.

And so, here he was with the first proper free time he had been granted in months. After calling in sick to work, he had gone out in search of coffee, his apartment lacking in the glorious stuff. It was quite a nice change of pace, from fighting a crime syndicate to grocery shopping, and had only been improved by the call from Sara, checking in on him after what she had found out about the night before, once Sin had ratted him out to her. He could only smile at the concern in her voice, along with the annoyance at missing the chance to kick some ass. She really did fit the picture of a slightly overprotective big sister, although he would never tell her that. For all that they were friends, he liked his teeth where they were.

And, after spending a few minutes calming her down, promising to invite her to the next big punch up, he was now listening in both amazement and incredulity, as Sara described her 'daring rescue' of the city's hooded vigilante.

' **Yep, straight through.'** She confirmed, laughing at the memory. **'You should have seen their faces.'**

"I wish I could." Aidan agreed, shoulders shaking at the image of both the Arrow and the police, slack jawed and stunned at Sara's sudden entrance. "I'm still amazed that neither of you were even hurt, though. When did the cops stop being so trigger happy?"

' **Never underestimate the element of surprise.'** She lectured him, repeating a speech that he had heard at least a dozen times in the last few months. **'When used right, it can be a powerful weapon. Especially when combined with something a bit…louder.'** Aidan could almost hear the smirk in her voice as he quickly put two and two together.

"You used your sonic thing, didn't you?" He guessed, suppressing a slight shudder at the mere memory of the device.

' **Of course I did.'** Sara confirmed. **'Even I can't take out an entire SWAT team with their weapons pointing right at me.'** Pause. **'Well, not all in one go, at least.'**

"Yeah, and we both know how powerful your 'shriek' is." Aidan continued, grimacing at the memory of the painful sound. "I'm pretty sure I can still hear it when I sleep."

' **I already said sorry!'** Sara exclaimed. **'You wanted a no-holes-barred session, and I just forgot to turn the settings down.'** Aidan just let out a slight huff.

"S'fine." He assured her. "All in the past." Turning the corner, he was about to continue when two squad cars raced past him, slowing down as they moved through the entrance to a nearby parking lot. Their lights were flashing, but the sirens remained off, catching his attention. What was it they were in such a hurry for?

"Look, Sara, I've gotta go. Something just came up. We'll talk more later, okay?" If the pure curiosity he felt spilled over into his words, Sara didn't call him out on it.

' **Yeah sure, I'll see you later.'** She agreed. **'Just try to stay out of trouble.'**

"I'll do my best." Aidan laughed, before slipping the phone into his pocket. Stepping into the parking lot, he found a stairwell and headed down, following the sound of the police cars. Placing his bag behind the stairs, he pushed open the door, moving to take in the scene before him.

The room was long and low, with plenty of cars and support columns preventing him from getting a clear view. Still, the bright red and blue flashes from the police cars at the far end gave their position away easily, as did the low hum of voices and, every so often, the bright white glare of a camera. Making his way forward, Aidan eventually was able to see with more precision. Police were trying to keep a group of people away from the crime scene, using both blockades and police cars. Police and CSI were on the scene, taking photographs and scanning over the entire area, looking for anything that might help. And, in the centre of the impromptu circle, stood the grand centrepieceof the situation.

A girl was there. Aidan couldn't see her properly, but was instantly apparent to anyone looking that she was dead. Her body had been strung up on a steel framework and posed in the way a child would a doll, complete with a frilly dress and what looked like a choker around her neck. Focusing, Aidan could see that her mouth was filled with something, providing more of an idea as to how she had died. Discretely taking out his phone, Aidan was able to take several pictures without anyone noticing, ready to be looked over on the Crypt's computer. Something about the poor girl's death made something itch at the back of his mind, like an old memory that refused to properly surface. And Aidan didn't like it.

Moving slowly again, Aidan worked his way around to the rear of the crime scene in a wide circle before moving closer, careful to avoid the roaming eyes of the police. Using parked cars as cover, and waiting for the nearby cops to move away, he finally stood behind the girl's support frame using a support column as cover. Listening for a few seconds, his ears eventually caught on to a voice, courtesy of an officer who had just arrived. As the man spoke, much closer this time, Aidan could feel a slight chill come racing through his body. It was only two words, yet it was enough to turn his blood to ice.

"Barton Mathis."

It was like a chain had been broken inside him, as Aidan almost felt the memories, so far away only a moment ago, suddenly come flooding to the forefront of his mind. Six years ago, not long after the disappearance of the Queen's Gambit, there had been a story that spread across the city like wildfire. The appearance of a new serial killer, one who suffocated his victims and left their bodies on display, dressed up like porcelain dolls. The search for him had gone on for weeks, during which time eight girls had been killed and left around the city, horrific sights to haunt those who found them. They had eventually caught the man responsible, locking him away in Iron Heights to serve at least half a dozen consecutive life sentences. Aidan could remember the fear of those around him at the time, the ever-present terror that they might be next, as well as the tidal wave of relief when the killer had been locked away, safe in the knowledge that this nightmare at least was over.

And now hoe was out, ready to begin anew.

Aidan stayed where he was for another minute or so, listening to the police talk. He couldn't catch much, only a few words here or there, but it was enough. '…among the escapees…keeping it quiet…no one knows Mathis better…' Eventually the words stopped, and Aidan carefully moved away, sneaking back through the police barrier and heading towards the stairs. And as he did so, his mind was filled with a single thought, one that grew until it consumed everything else.

The Dollmaker was back, and he needed to be stopped. Now

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Hours later, Aidan was busy pulling himself up and down the Crypt's salmon ladder, doing his best to work off the stress both his body and his mind had been placed under recently. His skin was soaked in a heavy layer of sweat, every muscle in his body ached, and, below him, his training equipment lay tossed around in disarray, as though a bomb had been set off amongst it. Aidan couldn't bring himself to care, though. He'd sort it out later, once he'd cooled off and his brain had calmed down. Although, from the state of things, that likely wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

As soon as he had left the crime scene, he had raced back to the Crypt, using the computer system to bring up anything he could on Barton Mathis. Newspapers, criminal record, police reports, everything he could find he scrawled through restlessly, building up his knowledge of the man and his 'work'. The results had not been pleasing. Little had been released to the media about the case except for the state the girls were found in, which was what had given rise to the moniker of 'the Dollmaker', and his criminal record had been surprisingly empty save for the murders. The only thing of use was the police records, but even those had been sketchy. Mathis was a psychopath, so there was no real motive to what he did, and the lack of any connection between his victims, aside from age and beauty, meant that there was nothing to go on to suggest where he might strike next.

It had taken him twenty minutes to go over the coroner reports for the eight girls killed during the first police investigation and, by the time he'd finished, his entire body had been shaking as he uploaded the photos of the newest girl, set a facial recognition system running, and hit the first set of training equipment he could reach. Even now, his mind was filled with glassy eyes, grotesque hanging poses, and mouths almost overflowing with the polymer that had drowned them.

"The hell happened down here?"

The sound of Sin's voice caught him off guard, and the bar in Aidan's hands missed its moorings, sending him tumbling to the padded floor. Pulling himself up quickly, he turned to look at Sin, leaning against the doorway that led to the stairs. Her face, a mixture of confusion at the chaos and amusement at her friend's tumble, quickly morphed into one of concern as she saw his expression. Brushing the sweat out of his eyes, Aidan quickly moved towards the computers, gesturing for her to follow.

"Take a look at this." He told her, gesturing to the screen. Taking a seat, Sin's eyes quickly scanned over the information. Aidan took the time to pull on a hoodie over his damp skin, glancing at the time as he did so. Almost midnight, he saw, his brow knotting in confusion. How had he let the day slip by so fast?

"Creepy old police reports?" Sin asked, drawing his attention back to her, still looking at him with concern and slowly growing confusion.

"Reports about the Dollmaker case." He clarified, reaching over to bring up the newer pictures. "And these are from this morning." He didn't need to look at his friend to know she had worked out what he was telling her.

"He's out?" She asked in disbelief.

"Apparently Iron Heights got split open in the quake." He told her. "Mathis was one of the escapees. And the cops have decided to keep thing quiet, so as not to 'cause a panic.'" Stupid move, he thought. Better to let people know now than risk them finding out after even more victims.

"Easiest way to cause a panic is to hold back the facts." Sin finished the thought, turning to the now-finished facial recognition. "So, who was she?"

"Katie Reed." Aidan answered, reading off the information displayed to him. "20 years old, attended Starling City University where she was working on a Master's Degree in Education." Switching to the police reports, he continued. "Apparently her roommate reported her missing last night, though no serious action was taken." Letting his eyes skim through the quite in-depth detail, it really was amazing what one could obtain by talking to the right guy, he ended on her recent financial records. "Pretty well-off for money, as well as having a penchant for beauty products. Particularly something called Mermaiden."

"So a psycho targeting rich pretty girls." Sin summarised, leaning back in her seat. "Just another day in Starling."

"There's got to be a connection." Aidan almost growled, moving away from the screens. "We need to find it before any more bodies show up."

"Wait, you're not seriously considering going after this guy?" Sin asked, standing up and moving towards him. "Aidan, you're in no condition to be going out in the mask for at least a few more days."

"What am I supposed to do?" He argued. "Sit back and let this nutjob kill more girls?"

"The police caught him last time, they'll do it again." Sin asserted, though her voice was somewhat lacking in confidence. "Just let them do their work, for once."

"Sin, they've already failed!" He shouted. "Eight girls died last time, and the cops weren't nearly as thinly stretched as they are now. How many more will die this time if I do nothing?"

"This isn't just another petty thug or mindless gangbanger." Sin argued, voice growing in strength. "This is a Serial. Killer. What you going to do if he catches you off guard? You'd just end up dead in an alley somewhere, and he'd still be out killing."

"If I can take on the Triad," Aidan reasoned, "I can sure as hell deal with one crazy."

"But you had help against the Triad." Sin pointed out, slowly sinking back down into her chair. "Please Aidan, just think it through."

The sight of his best friend, and surrogate sister, in such a state quickly served to calm him down considerably. He kneeled in front of her, clasping her hands in his.

"I get where you're coming from," He spoke quietly, "I really do. And if I had any other choice, I would take it. But the police can't do this on their own. If Mathis is going to be stopped, I have to do something." Sin just stared down at their joined hands, before raising her head to look at him.

"You and your stupid hero complex." She complained lightly, bringing a smile to Aidan's face. "Alright. I'll help you stop him. But I'm serious about you not working alone on this."

"I know." Aidan agreed, turning and looking at the flip phone resting beside the computer. Its pair was with the city's other vigilante, and the only other man who could make a difference in this case. Despite this, despite Sin's please, Aidan was still hesitant to pick it up. He was sure that, when the time came that he inevitably met the Dollmaker face to face, he would be fast enough to avoid any attack while delivering a few of his own. Besides, although they had worked pretty well together before, he still couldn't quite bring himself to tryst the hooded man just yet. The man had certainly helped the Glades, and Aidan couldn't say that he'd ever had any real problem with the methods that had been employed last year. But still, something in his gut told him to hold out, just until he'd found something solid. The two vigilantes had only managed to work together as they had before because neither of them really had any choice in the matter. In time that may change, but, for now at least, Aidan was content to keep the barrier between them.

Picking up the phone, he pocketed it, eyes never leaving Sin as he did so. "I promise, the second I'm in over my head, I'll give him a ring. That fair?"

"Fine." Sin agreed after a second, seeing that further argument would be useless. "What do you need me to do?"

"He probably had an attorney after his arrest, try and find out who." Aidan told her, thinking quickly as he began to move towards his gear. "The cops will most likely have a few questions for him, which could give us the advantage on finding him."

"Alright." Sin nodded, turning back to the computer before noticing his path. "Where are you going?"

"To get us some ears." He answered, stepping through the doorway and quickly grabbing his mask. Sin was a fast worker, and the night was still young.

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The Bisque Museum had certainly seen better days. Looking up at the hanging sign from where he sat astride his bike, Aidan could remember when he had visited, going once as a very young child for a family afternoon out. It had not been the best place to visit, since the porcelain figures within had completely terrified him, forcing the group to end the day prematurely when he refused to take another step into the museum. Even now, Aidan could feel a slight chill go down his spine just looking at the sign. It was the same one he had had that day as a child, the same one he had had when he'd first seen the Dollmaker's latest victim. It was like something inside him made him unable to look away, a sick curiosity for the objects that so petrified him.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the small block of apartments across from him. It was his best bet he had right now at finding the man he was hunting. Moving off his bike, he began to approach the entrance, mind running over the conversation he had overheard only twenty minutes ago.

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 _Standing atop the building opposite Tony Daniel's officer, Aidan had his mask rolled up as one hand pressed an earpiece to the side of his head. Once Sin, who had really stepped up her computer skills once the pair had started working together, had managed to find Barton Mathis' attorney, it had only been a simple matter to install a listening device, a job that had been almost ridiculously easy for Aidan, thanks in no small part to the empty building and barely-there security on the windows, held closed only by a simple, breakable lock. The device, which was little more than a small microphone attached to a battery pack, had been secured beneath the lawyer's desk, ready to record every word said in the office._

 _That had been yesterday, and, after a very long sleep to make up for his previous restlessness, Aidan was back, waiting for something to happen. No police had shown up yet, which only made him roll his eyes. They were putting more effort into keeping the case out of the public eye than they were into actually solving it. He'd listened to what he had missed during the day, and had been on the roof for nearly two hours, the only noise being the streets below, the light wind whistling around his ears, and the occasional sound through the earpiece that broke through the low level of static._

 _He was about ready to go and ask the attorney a few questions of his own, before a new voice over the wire caught his attention._

" _Tony Daniel?" The office was dark, Daniel obviously close to leaving for the night, and Aidan couldn't see anything of whoever had just stepped inside. The voice, though, was oddly familiar to him._

" _Help you with something, Officer?" Daniel replied, and Aidan perked up slightly. So the police_ were _investigating. At least that was something._

" _Barton Mathis." The cop announced. "According to the D.A.'s office, you handled his post-trial appeals, and I'd like to know where he is." It was the cop from yesterday, Aidan realised. The one who had been expressly forbidden from looking in to the case. Fascinating._

" _So you can give him a parking ticket or something?" Aidan ground his teeth at the man's snide tone. "If you want to talk to me about one of my clients, come back with a detective shield. Or a court order."_

'Jackass.' _Aidan thought. They were talking about a serial killer, and this idiot didn't seem to even care in the slightest. Surprisingly though, he could hear the Officer just chuckle at the man's words._

" _What, you find that funny?" Daniel asked hotly._

" _Well, a little bit." Came the admittance, before silence fell over the office for several seconds. And then…_

" _Where do we find him?"_

 _It wasn't the Arrow's presence there that surprised Aidan. It didn't take an idiot to figure out that he would be looking into the case. Aidan would have been worried if he hadn't. What DID surprise him was the fact that he was working with a cop, especially since almost the entire SCPD had been trying to either capture or kill the Hood less than a week ago, less than a few days ago. Still, he thought, listening with rapt attention, common enemies did make for unlikely allies._

" _Iron Heights Prison." Daniel answered._

" _He got out." The Arrow growled._

" _What? How?" Aidan couldn't tell whether the man was feigning it or was genuinely surprised at the news. Whichever it was, the Arrow didn't care._

" _You spent hours with him. Where would he run?" The vigilante demanded. "Where?!"_

" _I don't know, I-I swear."_

 _The Arrow let out a sigh at that, and then the familiar sound of an arrow being drawn and shot came through the earpiece. The lawyer began to scream, and Aidan could hear footsteps approach rapidly._

" _What the hell are you doing?!" The Officer shouted, the volume causing Aidan to pull the device away from his ear from a moment. "I thought you were done killing people!"_

" _He'll live." The Arrow said simply in response._

" _Yeah, but he'll report me to my lieutenant!" Aidan couldn't help but grin slightly at the complaint. Somehow, he thought that filing a report was the last thing on the lawyer's mind right now._

" _He won't talk to anyone." The Arrow assured his 'partner'._

" _What makes you so sure?"_

" _Because he has another shoulder." Screams followed the growled statement, and Aidan was almost certain he could hear the arrow getting pushed through its victim._

" _Oh, ok, ok, ok!" Daniel screamed, groaning in pain as the Arrow apparently ended the pressure. "There-there is another place." The lawyer finally said. "He was always drawing it. Sketching. His cell walls were covered with the place." Aidan focused his entire attention at that. Finally, they were getting somewhere!_

" _Yeah, well, what's the place?" The Officer demanded. "Was it in Starling City?"_

" _Yeah." Daniel replied. "The Bisque Museum." That was all Aidan needed to hear._

 _Pocketing the small earpiece after swiftly turning it off, cutting off the stream of words still leaking through, and pulling down his mask back over his face, he moved to the edge of the building and quickly worked his way down, plotting the quickest route in his head even as he hopped on his bike, engine roaring as he shot out into the nearly empty roads. He had a possible location, but he would have to hurry. He knew for a fact that the Arrow would certainly not be far behind._

 _And, unless he wanted his search to end before it began, he'd need to get something good to sway the hooded vigilante's mood. And his bow._

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Stepping into the small apartment building, Aidan took a quick look around. The place felt small and dreary, the stone floor growing wet from the handful of slowly leaking cracks in the ceiling, and he was hit by the impression that business hadn't exactly been good around here for a while. The room itself was tiny, about five or six metres between him and the receptionist's desk, with only a pair of old, slightly beat-up metal chairs taking up any space. A door to his left led out into the apartments themselves, and there was an old painting on the wall opposite it, paint flacking away for the already half-faded portrait. The whole place looked like it should have shut down years ago, probably around the time the museum across the street went out of fashion, thanks in part to its biggest fan.

Still, it remained, and right now it was Aidan's best chance at catching the Dollmaker.

Taking the few steps needed, Aidan stood in front of the desk. The woman behind it didn't look up, eyes glued to the computer monitor in front of her, fingers flying over the keys and she glanced down occasionally to the notebook to her side. Her face, though young, was creased in stress and, from the upside-down rows of numbers he could see scrawled in pencil on the lined paper, the apartments were barely able to keep themselves afloat.

"Excuse me." He began, switching off his voice modulator but still keeping his words deep and low. Better safe than sorry, especially in his line of work.

"I'll be with you in a moment, sir." The woman waved him off, rummaging for a specific page as she spoke. "I must warn you though, we don't have many rooms available."

"I'm not looking for a room." Aidan responded, turning the modulator back on. The woman was busy, but still, he didn't have all night. "Just one of your guests."

The shift in his voice caught the woman's attention, and she looked up, eyes widening as she stared at him. Her mouth opened and closed in an excellent fish impression for a few seconds, before words finally started to emerge. "Y-you're…you're…"

"Yeah." Aidan cut her off. "And right now, I'm looking for someone, and I think he might be here." The woman's face didn't change, and he let out a light sigh.

"Look," he explained, "the guy I'm looking for is very dangerous, and I need to find him before he gets the chance to hurt anyone." _Anyone else_ , he thought. "If he's here, I need to know. Can you help me?"

The woman's mouth stopped moving as he spoke, although the stare seemed like it had been seared on to her face. Aidan, in turn, stared back, trying to convey the seriousness and urgency of the situation. After a few moments, the woman blinked.

"What does he look like?" She asked.

"Blond, blue eyes, wears glasses." Aidan told her, remembering the mugshot from the man's police file. "Kinda creepy looking." The woman turned back to her battered computer, tapping a few keys and looking at the screen for a second.

"We had someone like that check in last week, room 52. Paid in cash." She turned to look at him. "IS that him?"

"That's him." Aidan confirmed "Thank you for your help. You might want to consider taking the rest of the night off." He advised her. The woman nodded, darting out from behind her desk and quickly heading out, account work forgotten in her haste.

Aidan watched her go for a second, before leaning back against the desk, waiting. A few minutes later, the sound of a car engine reached his ears, lights passing through the window and coming to a halt opposite the apartment building. Pushing himself off the desk, Aidan stood upright as the door opened, the cop from the crime scene coming in. From the open doorway to his right, he could hear boots softly hitting the concrete floor as someone came in through a window, and he had to fight not to roll his eyes. Didn't the guy know how to use a door?

"Who the hell are you?" The Officer exclaimed as soon as he saw Aidan, hand instinctively reaching for the gun at his side.

"If I wanted you to know, I wouldn't wear a mask." Aidan answered, smiling slightly at the reaction this garnered. Honestly, what kind of the answer did the cop expect? He'd walked right into it.

"Great, just what I need, another vigilante whackjob." The Officer muttered, hand moving away from his weapon but still ready. "You don't got a bow too, do ya?"

"Not my style." Aidan replied before quickly turning serious. Playtime was over. "I know you're here for Barton Mathis. So am I."

"Well, that's good to know." The Officer responded sarcastically. "But I've already got one mask working with me tonight. I don't need another."

"So, you _don't_ want to know which room Mathis is in?" Aidan asked, stopping the Officer as he began to move towards the door. "There are quite a few of them."

The Officer seemed to take note of the abandoned desk behind Aidan at his statement, and let out a sigh, waving his arm towards the empty doorway. "After you, I guess." He said, muttering slightly under his breath. Aidan just moved past him, striding down the corridor and turning the corner, counting off door numbers as he went.

As he rounded the corner, he stopped as he came face to face with the Arrow. For a moment, neither man spoke, before the hooded vigilante's mouth twisted downwards.

"What are you doing here?" He growled.

"Same thing as you." Aidan shot back. "Trying to catch Mathis. Coming?" He didn't give the other vigilante a chance to reply, moving around him and continuing down the hall, slightly more cautious as the numbers grew closer to his intended target. He could feel the Arrow's eyes burning into the back of his head as he walked, but ignored the sensation. He could focus on the other vigilante's anger later, right now he had a far more important task at hand.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Oliver fixed a steely glare on the masked vigilante moving away from him, his mind a messy jumble of feelings. One of the most predominant was confusion. He hadn't expected Damocles knowing about the case, let alone showing up right in the middle of it. From what he knew, the skull-faced vigilante had only ever shown interest in watching over the Glades, virtually ignoring the rest of Starling. There had been no reported sightings of him outside the half-destroyed city district, and, even with his assistance against China White for the medical supplies, Oliver heavily suspected that he had only gotten involved due to their being taken away from Glades Memorial. A pre-emptive strike like this, outside his turf, didn't fit with what Oliver knew, but the bigger issue had to be the knowledge of this apartment building. While the rumours surrounding the murder may have reached the vigilante's ears, there had been far too many witnesses for the police to keep things fully under wraps, there was no way to find out abut Mathis' favoured location in Starling apart from Tony Daniel, and Oliver knew from his earlier interrogation of the man that no other masked figure had inquired about the same. So how the hell had he managed to show up here?

However, as his confusion over the mystery knowledge and appearance grew, so too did his anger and frustration, slowly beginning to heat the blood in his veins. When it came to fieldwork, he had always preferred to work alone, or at least with someone he could intrinsically trust. With Lance, he already had a 'partner' he wasn't used to, one that he couldn't fully trust. Adding Damocles to the mix only served to grind his irritation further. And, as a point of pride to him, the fact that he had just been brushed aside didn't help things. Even before now, he had already been dealing with too much. On top of the Dollmaker's return, there was Laurel trying to send him to jail in a straight jacket, and his mother's impending hearing. Adding an unknown, and still slightly untrustworthy, vigilante to the pile only helped to weigh him down even more, compressing his sizzling anger to the point that he felt like it might just burst out of him, so tightly packed in his chest it was.

Still, despite the anger and confusion in his system, despite the alarm bells that the vigilante managed t set off in his head, there was something else. A combination of both acceptance and respect. Damocles had, he admitted, proved himself against the Triad. He had also spent the past few months protecting what was left of the Glades after the Undertaking, a task that daunted even Oliver. He had shown himself to be capable at what he did, and Oliver had to admit that his current situation was far from a bad one. Having someone there who could aid with the search in ways Lance couldn't, who knew how to watch their back and not feel the need to constantly question Oliver's less than legal methods, could prove very useful. He respected the vigilante, albeit grudgingly, for his work, his actions in helping Diggle only making this grow, and Oliver could accept the additional help.

Still, that didn't mean he was able to relax. Damocles may be on his side, but that didn't mean he was willing to take things easy on him. They had a killer to catch, and besides, he thought with a quick, wry twist of the lip, he did have a reputation to maintain.

The sound of footsteps behind him reached his ears, and then Lance was by his side, keeping pace as the two moved forward, following where Damocles had disappeared.

"You know who that guy is?" Lance asked. "Didn't know there were two of you in Starling."

"We worked together before." Oliver answered. "Calls himself Damocles."

"Damocles, right." Lance nodded, filing the information away for later before switching back to their goal. "Now listen," he began again, "just so we're clear, when we go through that door, we're here to arrest Mathis, ok, not to torture him."

"You asked for my help." Oliver pointed out.

"Yeah, and that wasn't easy, and neither is aiding and abetting." Lance said. "And I am still a police officer."

"Do you want to catch him or not?" Oliver growled. He'd try not to be overly vicious with Mathis, but he couldn't say that he wouldn't. Only if it was necessary.

Letting out a long breath, Lance drew his sidearm. "Let's go." He said, leading the way to where Damocles was waiting, batons in hand, outside room 52. Lance quickly repeated his 'no excessive damage' order to the vigilante, who nodded only after a quick glance to Oliver, who nodded in acceptance of the command. If he noticed the exchange, Lance didn't say anything, only turning to face the door and kicking it open, gun at the ready as he stepped in.

Oliver kept his bow ready as he moved in, eyes scanning over the room as he slowly stepped inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Damocles, batons held out in front of him as he too looked around. The room was empty, with only the three of them and no Barton Mathis in sight. The only thing of note was the table set up in the centre of the room. A porcelain doll was sat atop it, a cut out newspaper headline reading 'Dollmaker captured' taped to the front of it, complete with photo of a younger Lance bringing Mathis in.

And, in front of both doll and clipping, there was an old style rotary telephone. One that started ringing after a long moment of silence.

Both vigilantes waited in anticipation as Lance stepped forward, staring at the phone for several seconds before finally picking it up.

" _Detective."_ Mathis' voice sounded through the apartment. _"It's been too long."_

"Felicity," Oliver said quietly, activating his commlink, "I need a trace."

' _On it.'_ She replied.

"You sick son of a bitch." Lance said into the receiver, almost spitting the words out.

" _Sick? I've never felt better."_ Mathis said with a smile in his voice, one that turned Oliver's stomach slightly. _"Fresh air agrees with me."_

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Lance's anger was palpable as he spoke. "I caught you before. It's just a matter of time before I do it again."

" _Fair enough."_ The insane man continued. _"In the meantime, however, I have someone who'd like to say hello to you. Say hello, dear."_ The sound of a girl's shrieking and crying flooded over the line and into the room, and Oliver grimaced. Another victim. _"She's a little inarticulate at the moment."_ Mathis said by way of an apology.

"She's done nothing to you. Please, don't hurt her, just let her go." Lance begged, and Oliver could see Damocles begin to shift lightly beside him.

" _And allow her to wither away in a mediocre and forgettable life."_ Mathis stated, as though the idea disgusted him. _"No. No, no, no, no, no. She deserves so much better."_ Mathis paused for a moment, and Oliver could hear him moving. _"She deserves to have her beauty preserved. Pristine. Forever. Don't worry, I will turn her into something special."_

By this time, Oliver could almost feel the white-hot anger streaming off of Damocles as they were forced to listen to what was going on. Casting a glance over at the man, he was slightly taken aback by the look of pure hatred in the vigilante's eyes, and he remembered a time when that look had been almost permanently fixed to his own face. It was a time he never wanted to return to.

" _Pay attention, Detective."_ Mathis taunted Lance as he listened helplessly. _"What comes next is really quite exquisite. The sound of an oesophagus slowly hardening."_ The girl's shrieking was growing louder by the second, and Oliver thought that the sound was etching itself into his mind, never to leave him. _"Like a symphony."_

He activated his commlink again, throwing caution to the wind. "Felicity!" He urged.

' _We're trying, but he's blocked the trace.'_ She told him, and Oliver could only watch and listen in horror. There was nothing he could do.

"Barton, don't do it." Lance pleaded. "I'm begging you, ok? Is that what you want? I'm begging you. Please, just stop!"

" _It's for the world to enjoy."_ Mathis said, a terrible delight in his words as the screams slowly died away. _"After all, everyone loves a pretty doll."_ And the line went dead, Lance dropping the receiver in defeat.

The room was silent for several minutes, the three men unable to utter a single sound after what they had just heard. Eventually, Lance moved, turning on the spot and rushing back through the door as fast as his legs would carry him, desperate to get away from the awful place. Oliver was about to follow, when something made him stop.

From the moment the call had begun, Damocles hadn't made a sound. He had barely even moved, staying as still as a statue throughout the poor girl's murder. But now he was moving. Right towards the small tables.

Oliver didn't even try to stop him. He didn't even make a sound as Damocles flipped the two tables over, sending both the doll and the phone crashing to the ground. A second later, the masked man picked up both tables by their centre column, and proceeded to bring the two pieces of furniture down on the damaged items, smashing them again and again. The tables splintered and broke apart piece by piece, but still he kept going, slamming the slowly dwindling lumps down over and over again. He never made a sound, not even a slight grunt as pieces of wood flow at him, sticking into his arms and chest as splinters shot through the air. He just kept on pummelling the doll and the phone, each one breaking into smaller and smaller pieces with each hit.

After almost ten minutes, he stopped, straightening up and tossing what remained of the table columns away from him. The tables themselves were gone, only a few chunks of woods and thousands of splinters remaining, spread out across the room. The doll had practically disintegrated under the onslaught, only a few porcelain shards still visible amongst the powder, while all that remained of the phone was the receiver's mouthpiece, plastic cracked and inner electrics clearly visible. And Oliver still stood there, watching.

The silent figure of Damocles slowly turned around, still making no sound even as his chest heaved. Oliver could see the dozens of splinters sticking out of him, blood very slowly beginning to stick the tight black shirt to his body. Neither vigilante spoke for a minute, Oliver just watching as Damocles seemed to be looking at something miles away.

This moment of distraction didn't last long, however, and Damocles' eyes son swivelled around to fix on him, with a penetrating gaze that Oliver had only met a few people capable of pulling off.

"The second you find something on him, you contact me." He all but demanded. "I know I won't be much use in your investigation, but I refuse to sit on the side line for all of this. Deal?"

"Deal." He agreed, holding the eye of the vigilante and shooting a quick nod before turning, leaving Damocles in the empty room. The Dollmaker had managed to claim a second victim, and he'd be damned if he allowed the count to grow any higher.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Standing at the edge of the roof, Aidan's eyes were focused on the boutique across the street from him. His gaze began to move as the blonde woman emerged from the now-closed store, several bags containing very expensive skin cream on her arm as she began to walk down the street.

' _Left the store.'_ The disguised voice said in his ear. Aidan's earpiece had been tuned to the Arrow's frequency before they began, to better co-ordinate their movements, but the blonde's line had been specially modified for him, to hide her true identity. A smart idea, he admitted to himself, but kind of pointless. He didn't care who she was, who any of them were. They were willing to risk themselves to protect the city, without any kind of thanks or support. As long as they didn't turn on him or the people of Starling, he was willing to let them be.

' _Go to the rendezvous point.'_ Looking at the roof of the building across from him, Aidan could see the bow-wielding figure of the Arrow, looking down at the same blonde, passing a car that contained yet another member of the team. _'Stay in public._

Keeping his eyes on the blonde, Aidan quickly took a running jump to reach the next rooftop, edging along to keep pace with their 'bait'. He had been against the idea to begin with, even when he'd been told that the woman at risk was the one who had proposed it. It just didn't sit right inside him. Risking his own life, that was one thing. It was his choice, his responsibility if anything happened. But this? It felt wrong. Someone else was in the crosshairs, some that, should anything go wrong, he might not be able to protect. He was calmed down, however, by the knowledge he had received. The Dollmaker was targeting his victims based off some high-end skin cream, one that was only sold in four stores. Unless they wanted to either stake out each store for any sign of Mathis, or risk waiting for another girl to get taken, then the offer of a bait for the lunatic was the only option. And, with the sheer amount of protection she had, it should be a simple task. The blonde would be fine, and they'd put Mathis away until the courts finally made the easy decision to simply put him down like the monster he was.

' _Just for the record,'_ the Officer he now knew as Lance stated from down in the street, _'I'm not a huge fan of dangling helpless girls in front of psychopaths like meat.'_

' _She volunteered.'_ The Arrow reminded the cop.

' _Well, she must really believe in you.'_ Aidan had to agree with the Officer's words. Despite his dark history, the Arrow was surprisingly capable of inspiring those around him.

The Arrow sighed at the words, however. _'So was your daughter.'_ Laurel Lance, the new Assistant District Attorney, Aidan remembered quickly. So, she had worked with the Arrow in the past? Why the change of heart?

Lance let out a similar deep sigh. _'She suffered a loss.'_ He explained to the vigilante. _'Grief's got a way of shifting a person's beliefs.'_ Aidan let his head drop slightly at the statement. He knew that better than most, given how it had set him down this path in the first place. And he'd do anything to have never learnt that terrible lesson.

' _But then you know about that.'_ Lance added. _'You've lost people too.'_

' _Why would you say that?'_ the Arrow asked, sounding almost surprised.

' _Why else would you be doing this?'_ Lance asked rhetorically. _'You or your friend?'_ Lance took a quick breath before continuing. _'My youngest, she died.'_

Aidan felt his heart drop at the words. From the moment he'd found out the Officer's name, he had been dreading this moment. While there were still a number of things he didn't know for certain about Sara, there were still a few hard truths surrounding her. She had disappeared when the Gambit had sunk, she wasn't _quite_ as dead as most people thought, and her family didn't know that yet. To hear Lance's words, the long-held grief in his words that had become second nature to him, it made something twist uncomfortably inside him, at keeping the truth from a grieving parent about their child's survival. He forced the sensation away, however. He didn't have the right to feel that way, and, if Sara ever did decide to reveal herself to her family, then that was her call.

' _I'm sorry.'_ The Arrow said in condolence.

' _Less than a month after it happened, I-I ended up catching the Dollmaker case.'_ Lance continued. _'Threw myself into it. I think on some level, with each girl I was trying to save Sara.'_ He admitted, more to himself than his current partners. _'And just like with Sara, I couldn't. He killed eight girls Sara's age before I caught him.'_

' _Someone's coming.'_ The blonde interrupted over the commlink. Aidan quickly picked up his pace, leaping the last building and moving to the ledge to look down into the street.

' _I got him.'_ He heard the archer say, though his eyes were focused on the man getting near to the blonde. He quickly scanned for the quickest route down, as the man drew closer and closer.]

' _Ok, I'm going to admit to being seriously wigged out right now.'_ The blonde said, fear rising in her voice. Aidan could feel the anticipation grow in his system as the two figures got closer, one foot raised against the ledge and muscles ready to push off. However, it quickly drained away as the man entered a restaurant. _'False alarm,'_ the blonde sounded the all-clear, _'but next time I offer to be bait for your serial killer, please turn me down.'_ The blonde disappeared from his line of sight, and Aidan stepped down, being granted a second of peace before the screaming began, muffled slight but still there. And Aidan's mind was on an instant red alert.

 _Mathis._

Quickly retracing the few steps he had taken, Aidan jumped over the side, falling through the air for a few second before twisting, hands finding the edge of the building's fire escape and hanging on tight. It took a moment for his body to shake away the jarring sensation from the impact, before he continued his descent, dropping down level by level until his feet hit the ground. Soon, he was racing across the street, outstripping the running figure of Lance ahead of him as both men reached the mouth of the side road, following the sound of screams and struggling into the nearby construction site.

' _Delta Charlie 52 to Central.'_ He could hear Lance yelling into his police radio from behind him, while also ricocheting through his earpiece. _'Code 99, possible 207 in progress, immediate back-up required!'_ Aidan cursed under his breath. More cops, _just_ what he needed right now.

Turning into the construction site and moving fast, Aidan could see the fallen figure of the blonde, groaning slightly and grasping her head from where she had apparently been hit. The Arrow was kneeling down over her, hand raised slightly as he attempted to assess the damage. Off to the side, discarded away from the woman, was an arrow, the first few inches or so coated in fresh blood. As he slowed down to help the woman who had been brave enough to put herself in harm's way, the Arrow looked up, eyes alert and angry beneath the shadow of his cowl.

"Get him," he shouted at him, "I'll take care of her." Aidan nodded instantly, legs picking up speed once more as he kept running, ripping aside the still-rustling tarp in his way as he chased down the fleeing figure of Mathis. The killer was fast, but he was faster, and it took only a few seconds for Aidan to gain on the man, one hand reaching down to withdraw a baton as the gap closed. With a flick of the wrist, the metal pole went slicing through the air, hammering into the back of Mathis' knees and sending him crashing to the ground in a heap, twisting as he glanced off a scaffold to end up on his back, wheezing for breath slightly. Blood was already spreading out beneath is shoulder, and Aidan quickly thanked the Arrow for his assistance. Made his job a lot easier.

He wasted no time in throwing himself atop the fallen man, slamming his fist into the serial killer's jaw. As he did so, something flashed before his eyes. The face of one of Mathis' victims, mouth filled with the polymer that had suffocated her as her glassy eyes seemed to stare at him. Shaking the sight away, he sent another punch, this one connecting with his captive's nose and making an audible _crack._ Another image was conjured up, another dead girl staring at him. With each hit, more and more faces passed through his mind. The original eight girls killed, the two more recent ones, and others, girls who might suffer the same terrible end should Mathis go free. Aidan could feel his fists connecting with flesh, could feel the warm blood staining the leather of his gloves, could hear the heavy thuds of impact. All of these sounds, sights and feelings surrounded him, blocking out the world as he struck again and again, for what felt like hours but was only ten seconds at most.

Aidan's barrage of blows was brought to an abrupt halt, however, as pain flashed through his arm. Falling back, he looked down and saw his knife, sticking out of his chest, only a few inches from where his torso met his shoulder. So distracted he had been, he hadn't noticed as Mathis reached for the weapon in his boot. Now though, here he was, ripped from the enticing haze of blood and vengeance and slowly beginning to bleed out, one arm dead by his side. He tried to move, but his body didn't seem to want to respond, and he was forced to watch as Mathis grabbed an abandoned plank of wood, hefting it and using it as a club to slam into Lance as he arrived at the scene, sending the cop crashing to the ground. Willing his unexpectedly tired limbs to work, Aidan slowly pulled himself up with the help of the nearby scaffold as Mathis picked up Lance's dropped gun, sauntering over to his fallen opponent, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he did so.

"I thought there'd be more ceremony to this moment." The lunatic said as he pointed the gun at Lance's head. "I'm a little disappointed to be honest." Aidan groaned in pain as he finally reached a standing position, and Mathis' head turned lazily to look at him. "Don't worry," he said, a look of arrogant certainty flashing through his eyes, "I'll be with you in a second." His attention was wrenched away from Aidan suddenly, as an arrow knocked the gun out of his hand. Aidan turned to see the Arrow standing there, already reaching over his shoulder to reload his bow.

The sound of nearby sirens, approaching very quickly, interrupted the moment, and the hooded vigilante turned to look at the flashing lights coming from just outside the construction site. Mathis took this opportunity to make a break for it, and Aidan lunged for the killer, desperate not to let him escape. He was too slow, however, and the man disappeared, with Aidan having to quickly grip the edge of the scaffold to prevent himself from falling. The sudden movement had taken a lot out of him, and the world was slowly starting to spin around him.

"Get out of here!" Lance urged the two masked men. Aidan turned to look at the Arrow, who wasted no time in moving, and did the same, using the scaffold to pull himself forward and allow the momentum to lead him away from the cop cars. The effort was still painful, especially since the knife in his shoulder was still there to keep the blood from flowing any more easily, but he kept going, slowly building up the strength in his legs as he made his way out of the construction site and into the relative safety of the back alleys, heading back towards his bike. Eventually, he reached the vehicle and, pulling himself on, began the ride back to the Crypt, slower than usual and with one hand pressed to the knife to keep it from jostling around. And as he sped along the roads, his mind swirled with anger, pain, and most of all, guilt.

The Dollmaker had got away _again_. And it was all his fault.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

' **Rumours about Metamorpho Chemicals. Might be worth a look.'**

Sin grinned as she sent the text off, pocketing her phone and raising the bottle of beer in her other hand up to her lips. The benefit of having connections amongst the city's homeless population was that there was always something new to be learnt. No one paid them any mind, the could get pretty much anywhere, and ended up privy to many a secret. Secrets like the possible hideout for a serial killing psychopath. They got the information, she paid them for it, and it got passed along to whoever needed it most. Or, in this case, whoever was best suited to nipping this particular rumour in the bud.

Well, provided that their stitches held.

The warm sensation of the beer as it spread out from her stomach, while definitely useful in relaxing her tense muscles, did nothing to chase away the exhaustion she felt at her core, an exhaustion cultivated through a delicate balance of a lack of sleep and an excess of physical and mental strain. Sin couldn't remember the last time she'd actually managed to get a good night's sleep, although it certainly hadn't been over the past week or so, and she hadn't been given the chance to properly rest for at least two days. The Dollmaker had been running around the city, and Aidan had been working almost non-stop to catch him. And she, of course, had been pulled into the mix. She wasn't complaining about it, the idea of a wandering serial killer definitely not an attractive one to her, but the case did worry her. For the escaped lunatic, certainly, but also for her friend. Ever since he had found the first victim, Aidan had changed. Nothing drastic, he was still the same quick-fingered idiot who had taught her how to pick a lock, but there was something inside him, like a switch had been flicked. Instead of the calm, calculating and skilled vigilante he had been pretty much since the moment he had put on the mask, he was angry, letting it control every step he took and sacrificing his skill for brute force. And now, he had paid the price for it.

She could still see him stumbling in, staining the stone wall red as he collapsed against it, the hilt of his knife protruding from his shoulder.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

" _Hang on, I just want to make sure I heard this right." Sin was standing in front of Aidan, who sat on the medical bed of the Crypt's 'hospital', the wound in his shoulder stitched up and bandaged, although some red spots had still broken through the white material. "You had Mathis pinned beneath you, and were beating the psychopathic crap out of him before he used your knife to stab you. That about right?"_

" _I wouldn't have put it_ quite _like that," Aidan answered, playful smirk ruined by the dark anger swirling in his eyes, not to mention the death glare Sin was sending him, "but, yeah, pretty much."_

" _And how, exactly, did he get your knife?" Sin asked rhetorically. "Oh, that's right, he took it from your boot, without you even noticing. But of course, that_ can't _be what happened, since you're always so careful about that kind of thing."_

" _Jesus, Sin, just calm down." Aidan insisted, slowly rising from his seat and straightening up. "It was one mistake on my part, and I'm still kicking. As long as we catch him, it'll be worth it."_

" _It's not the fact that he stabbed you that I'm so pissed off at you about." Sin explained as she followed him out into the central Hub. "And it's not about how you barely avoided the complete loss of your arm by only a few inches. It's the fact that you let him do it that bothers me. You lost your focus, and he had every chance to kill you. Why isn't this more of a concern to you?"_

" _Because there are more important things to worry about." He answered, dropping into the chair behind the monitors and wincing as the move jostled the wound. "Mathis is still at large, and we need to catch him before he kills anyone else."_

"You'll _be his next victim if you keep going on like this!" Sin exclaimed. Aidan merely shrugged._

" _Maybe," he admitted, eyes never leaving the screen, "but I'll make sure he's coming down with me."_

 _Sin was stunned into silence by his words. Did he really just say what she thought he said? Placing her hand on the chair's headrest, she span it around sharply._

" _I get it." She told him. "You're angry. You're angry that Mathis got away, you're angry that he killed those two girls. But you can't let anger control you. If you do that, you are going to die._ You _taught me that!"_

" _It's not…" Aidan began to protest, before stopping. "Mathis is free because I wasn't fast enough. Because I wasn't careful enough. If he gets to anyone else, it will be my fault."_

" _Christ, Aidan." Sin muttered in disbelief. "No matter what you think, you are not God. You can't save everyone, and you're no use to the city if you let yourself get killed trying to right this wrong."_

" _The people of the Glades need someone to save them." Aidan insisted, although his voice was much quieter now. "And I have to be that for them, no matter the cost."_

" _I need you, too." Sin said, resting her hand on her friend's unbandaged shoulder. "So does Sara. So does Charley." She could see Aidan's anger slowly begin to die down with every word, the last name bringing tears to his eyes. Moving her hand, she cupped his cheeks, staring him directly in the eye._

" _The city isn't the only one that needs you. And you are far more useful to them AND us alive than dead."_

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Once she had said her piece, it had been surprisingly easy to get Aidan to sleep, lying him down on the medical bed as his shoulder slowly put itself back together. Sin had practically passed out behind the monitors after that, only waking around midday to the sight and sound of her friend doing the salmon ladder one-handed. His calm was back, but his determination to catch the Dollmaker remained as strong as ever. And, after getting him to promise to stay put, Sin had decided to play a slightly more active role in the search. She couldn't fight nearly as well as Aidan or Sara, although both had made sure she knew how to properly defend herself, but she did know how to find stuff out. Or, more accurately, who she needed to talk to in order to find stuff out.

And now, only a few hours after she had stepped out of the Crypt, she had a possible location for the returned psycho killer. The sooner that whack job was caught, the better.

Reaching the top of the steps, she could feel the last few dregs of beer splashing down her throat and tossed the bottle away. She was pretty close to the clocktower, and she hadn't had much of a chance to hang out with Sara recently. Could be fun to catch up.

"Excuse me." Sin looked up at the call. A guy, with a red hoodie and features that were practically made for modelling, was stepping towards her.

"Step off, Abercrombie." She replied, silently willing the guy to get the message and leave her alone. He wasn't deterred, however.

"Cindy? Sin?" He asked, and something inside her flared up slightly. There were only three people she let call her Cindy, and this boy was not one of them. Still, the fact that he knew her name, _both_ of them, was enough to put her on the defensive.

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?" She asked sarcastically. _'Seriously, just push off'_ , she silently added.

"I'm looking for a friend of yours." Ok, this guy was either extremely determined or completely clueless. "Blonde. Black leather, head to toe." At his description of Sara, Sin let her eyes run over him quickly. Well built, but probably slow enough to escape. With a small smirk, she took off running. Suddenly, her decision about where to go next became a hell of a lot easier.

Running down the street, Sin came to a parking lot, a chain fence blocking her path. As she got nearer, she jumped, grabbing the top of the fence and planting her foot in the mesh to help boost her over, dropping to the ground on the other side. At the clinking noise behind her, she assumed that her pursuer had managed the same. The chase continued, Sin dodging between the parked cars as she tried to outstrip her tail. Looking back for a moment, her eyes bugged slightly as she saw how, instead of widening, the gap was slowly beginning to shrink. Running out of the lot, she darted into a side alley, using the railing of a short flight of steps to slide down, hearing the guy's pounding footsteps behind her. The alley around her was familiar, and Sin smiled as she ducked into a building- the Clocktower.

She leaped up the stairs three at a time as she rushed through floor after floor, the sounds of pursuit always ringing in her ears. Reaching the top of the stairwell, she made a sharp turn, scrambling through the trapdoor and into the Clock tower itself. The place seemed empty, but she knew that Sara would be around here somewhere. She hastily ducked down behind one of the room's many steel frames, watching from the shadows as the red hoodie guy came up the ladder, into the room. He looked around, clearly searching for her, but Sin's eyes were drawn more towards the black shape creeping up on the guy, metal rod in hand. With one swing, he was knocked unconscious, falling to the floor with a thud.

Sin grinned as she popped up from her hiding place, moving forward and letting Sara pull her into a hug.

"Are you alright?" The blonde ninja asked, concerned for her young friend.

"I'm fine," Sin answered, breathing slightly heavy from her escape attempt, "just a little out of breath." Sara nodded, before looking at the crumpled figure on the ground.

"What did he want?" She asked, and Sin grew a bit more serious at this point.

"He was looking for you." She supplied, watching Sara closely. There was no visible change on her face, but from the way her whole being seemed to darken slightly, Sin could tell that something was most definitely wrong.

"Well then," she began, sending a smile towards Sin that would have made a hardened gangster wet themselves, "let's not disappoint him. You want to watch?"

"You know it." Sin grinned as Sara moved away, towards where he gear waited for her. It was always a pleasure to watch the blonde work, and Sin wouldn't miss this for anything.

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Metamorpho Chemicals had, before the Undertaking, been quite a successful company, bringing much needed work to the city and helping struggling families to keep food on the table and a roof overhead. However, as with so much else, the company had not been spared by Malcolm Merlyn's man-made earthquake, and their factory had very quickly been condemned as so many other places had been levelled, the company itself jumping ship and abandoning Starling as fast as it could. This had resulted in thousands of workers being laid off, only dragging the Glades further down the path to complete ruin, with yet another source of income to the suffering survivors being cut off.

Still, Aidan thought to himself as he carefully moved through the empty hallway, it made his job a hell of a lot easier. After all, had there still been workers here, he wouldn't have been able to pick up on the voices echoing from the double door ahead of him. Two muffled by the doors themselves, and another by something else. He didn't need to guess what.

Sin's text had forced him into immediate action. Using the computers to locate Metamorpho, he had pushed himself for hours to build up the strength he had lost the night before. His shoulder, practically screaming at him from the moment he had begun, had steadily faded into a dull throb, the pain still there but ignored by his mind. He knew that the consequences of placing such strain on the injured joint would come back to bite him eventually, but there was really no argument. He would end this tonight, one way or another, and he needed the full use of both arms. Provided it didn't take another hit, it would only be a few more days of recovery after this.

And then, news of the kidnapping had reached him.

One of the monitors had been set up to constantly broadcast Starling's news networks, in case anything of interest happened to come up, and, as Aidan had finished yet another exercise, the monitor flared to life, projecting the information through the Crypt.

' _Officer Quentin Lance and his daughter Laurel were abducted earlier today.'_ The news of the cop being taken had instantly caught his attention. _'No ransom has been demanded. SCPD are urging anyone with information regarding their whereabouts…'_ He'd stopped listening by that point, already running for his hear. There was only one person who could have taken the two, and Aidan could take a rough guess as to where they were. And he wasn't the only one.

He'd been about to set off when the phone rang. The conversation had been a short one, but more than enough to confirm his suspicions.

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" _The Dollmaker is at Metamorpho Chemicals." The Arrow's voice came over the line, words wrapped tight in anger as Aidan listened to the low growl."_

" _I'm on my way." He said simply, mask already on and free had playing with the curved knife he had taken from China. It was about time to try out its usefulness in his arsenal._

" _Same frequency as before." He was instructed. "Wait for my signal before doing anything."_

" _Meet you there." Aidan ended the discussion after a few seconds. The Arrow seemed to want to say something, but held back, and the call was closed, Aidan tossing the phone back on the desk and heading towards his bike, curved knife slipping up the sleeve of his shirt, ready for the use it was sure to receive very soon._

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Stopping in front of the double doors, Aidan pressed his ear to the slightly-rusted metal, listening. Several raised voices, the words still undecipherable, and a muffled moaning, one that resonated with terror. Moving back a step, he pressed a finger to his ear.

"I'm in position." He said. "Waiting on you."

' _On my way.'_ The Arrow growled back, his words rushed slightly as the sound of running footsteps echoed in the background.

"Hurry up," Aidan told him, an icy fear lacing his words, "I don't know how much time they've got left."

Lowering his hand, he quickly checked the doors over. It was, as he had guessed, locked, although it was a weak one, not built to hold back any kind of substantial force. The lack of hinges indicated that it opened outwards, and, providing he didn't put his foot through it by accident, it should prove a simple task to just force his way through.

Flicking his wrist, the curved knife slid into his hand, cold metal sending goose bumps across the slightly exposed skin before it came to a halt in his glove. He spun the blade around his fingers, the sharp edge close to pressing through to his skin as he waited for the right time to strike. After what had happened the night before, the Arrow had pretty much ordered him to stay close during their attack. Aidan couldn't really blame the hooded vigilante, the bandages still wrapped around his shoulder. He'd done what he could, but it would still be a while before he could fight effectively on his own. Besides, Mathis had only barely missed crippling him the last time they'd met. Aidan wasn't exactly keen to give the psycho a chance to rectify his mistake.

" _Laurel, sweetheart…"_ Aidan's head snapped up to focus on the door, the words coming from the other side now painfully clear. It was Lance, virtually shouting as he tried to comfort his daughter. _"…. Close your eyes. I'm here. I'm here, honey."_

Mathis must be seconds away from beginning. They were out of time.

Swearing under his breath, Aidan raised his leg, bringing his foot up to the level of the lock before lashing it forwards, the hard sole of his boot slamming into the metal. Although, it might as well have been glass. The lock crumpled under the pressure, snapping away from the doors that almost came completely off their hinges. A few rushed steps through the new open doorway, and Aidan was able to take in the scene.

It reminded him of something out of a horror movie. Lance was tied to a metal pole, tears almost streaming down his face even as his expression morphed into one of shock and relief as he looked towards the broken doorway. Mathis also looked shocked, although his face was more distressed than the police officer, due to his 'fun' being interrupted. Aidan could help the sense of satisfaction he gained when seeing the man's badly broken nose. And there, lashed to a metal frame with a pipe leading to her mouth, was Lance's daughter Laurel, terror and desperation in her eyes as, ignoring the vigilante, her eyes watched as a steady stream of white polymer made its way towards her mouth, death coming to claim its prize. He needed to act fast.

With a flick of his wrist, Aidan sent the curved knife sailing through the air. The sharp blade passed through the polymer's tube like it was butter, the while liquid splashing to the ground as the tube spurted around like a headless snake. The knife itself thudded into the support frame, barely missing Laurel's face, and Aidan couldn't help the silent sigh of relief. While the knife had gone where his eye had instructed, the barely-there distance between the quivering blade and the woman's skin was still enough to raise a slight amount of worry. Still, the woman was no longer at risk of being suffocated on hardened polymer, which was all that mattered.

The next few seconds passed by incredibly quickly after that. Almost in the same instant as the knife came to a halt, the Arrow dropped down from above. He landed on Mathis' workstation, if the implements there were anything to go by, and wasted no time in firing an arrow at the large reservoir device, knocking it over and allowing what was left of the fluid to drain away. Mathis quickly ducked behind the woman, using her as a human shield as another arrow came flying, embedding itself into a shelf behind the killer. This was all the encouragement he needed to get moving, desperate for escape as he sprinted away.

Aidan wasted no time in moving towards the bound Laurel, yanking his knife from its spot beside her head and sending quick slashes at the bonds that held her to the frame. The moment her hands were free, she scrabbled to tear off her mask, gasping in air as she pulled it away. A glance behind him, and Aidan could see the Arrow doing the same for Lance, removing the chain the kept him secured to the pole. The hooded man looked towards him as soon as his task was complete, and Aidan could almost see the gratitude in the vigilante's eyes.

"Do what you need to do, just get him." Lance ordered the vigilantes. Both men nodded, Aidan stuffing the knife in his pocket before turning and running after the fleeing psychopath, quickly catching up with the Arrow. Behind them, they could hear another shout of "Get him!", as Lance pushed them to go faster, to not let the Dollmaker get away once again.

Rushing through the factory, Aidan's ears strained for any indication of where Mathis had gone. A few faint echoes, the pounding footsteps of the two vigilantes, but nothing more prominent. A sudden noise, however, caught his attention. A series of metallic crashes, as though several heavy objects had just been dropped to the ground. The Arrow had also heard it, and Aidan followed the hooded man as the two raced around a corner into a larger area. The noise had clearly come from here, and it was obvious to see what had made it.

Mathis was stood over a pile of pipes, which had clearly just clattered to the floor if the few slowly rolling away were anything to go by. And there, pinned beneath the metal, was a blonde-haired, black leather clad figure that Aidan would recognise anywhere.

Sara.

"Let's take a better look at this face of yours." Mathis said menacingly, moving closer towards the fallen woman. "You have such lovely skin."

As Mathis began to bend down, Aidan whipped the knife still in his boot out, the one that had been shoved in his shoulder less than 24 hours ago. With a flick of the wrist, he sent the blade lancing towards Mathis, piercing his left shoulder in the same instant as an arrow did the same for the right. The force and surprise of both projectiles served to throw the killer back, falling against some pipes. The Arrow moved closer to the downed man, while Aidan approached Sara. Seeing the pipes laid over her legs, he bent to pull them off, shoulder throbbing as the adrenaline slowly left him. Once free, Sara reached towards her dropped bo staff, a quick nod directed to her friend.

"You're going back to prison." The Arrow growled, and Aidan looked over to where the hooded man stood over Mathis. On the one hand, he was relieved. The Dollmaker was caught, this latest nightmare for the city was over, and girls would no longer have to live in constant fear of being turned into gruesome puppets. However, another part of him, deep in the shadows of his mind, wondered whether this would be enough. Incarceration was sufficient for criminals, but Mathis was more than that. He was a monster, and Aidan knew there was only one way to stop a monster. And, given the way Sara shifted beside him, he wasn't the only one.

The serial killer glared at the vigilante for a moment, before gasping as half of a bo staff pierced his chest. Listening to the dying man's gurgles for a moment, Aidan turned sharply to Sara, who was already reaching for the hanging line of silk she had used to ambush Mathis in the first place.

"No, he's not." She said, before disappearing up into the roof of the factory. The Arrow turned to look for her as she spoke, but saw nothing, on Damocles standing behind him.

As the Arrow's questioning gaze fell on him, Aidan began to move forward. Crouching down in front of Mathis' still form, he reached for his knife, twisting the blade slightly before pulling it free.

'Hope that hurt.' He thought, while silently returning the weapon to his boot and turning, heading back the way he had come, the Arrow's eyes still digging into his back. It didn't matter. The night had taken a lot out of him, and he knew that he needed to get back to the Crypt before he passed out in the factory. And, of all the possible ways the police might catch him, unconscious at a crime scene was not the way he particularly wanted to go.

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Stood on the roof of an apartment building, Oliver waited as he listened to the faint yet easily recognisable sound of someone pulling themselves up the fire escape, growing louder and louder with every passing second. While his body remained still, almost statue like, his mind worked quickly, going over each little detail and possibility that might arise in the conversation that was to come.

It had been almost a week since the events at Metamorpho, and Oliver had spent much of that time thinking about the skull-faced Damocles. He had gone back over everything he had been given concerning the man, as well as his own personal interactions out in the field. And, despite the anonymity surrounding the vigilante, it had been a simple task to draw a character profile together. Protective of the Glades, to the point that he seemed almost reluctant to leave unless the need was too great, determined in his work, if the number of broken bones found among the sites he had been seen were anything to go by, and either too brave or too stubborn to allow events to unfold without him, clearly highlighted by the knife he had taken to the shoulder. The number of foiled crimes that held even the slightest link to him was impressive in and of itself, and Oliver felt a growth in his respect for the fact that Damocles had been there for the end of the Dollmaker matter, despite taking what had appeared to be a pretty serious injury the night prior. In short, he was strong, resilient, and willing to do what needed to be done to protect the city.

Oliver could, although he tried to downplay the connection, see a lot of himself in the newer vigilante. Which was part of what had led him to the rooftop in the first place.

He had discussed the idea with both Diggle and Felicity, and, while the latter had raised a few complaints, the pair could see his line of thinking. There was little point in denying Damocles the right or freedom to do what he did, especially with the state that Starling was in even after almost six months, and they had already worked together on several occasions. All that was needed was one more step…

Oliver was drawn back to the present as the familiar dark-clothed figure hopped over the ledge of the roof, boots crunching on the loose gravel that layered the top of the building. The exposed eyes, the only visible sign of humanity on the man, seemed to widen slightly as they caught on the green leather-clad vigilante, before returning to normal, the person they belonged to taking up a calm stance, though one with slightly bent knees as if ready to take off at the slightest notice.

"I got your message." The modified voice called out, not moving a step closer. "You wanted to meet?"

"How are you holding up." Oliver asked to begin with. It might have been a week since the event, but still, their night life didn't leave much time to allow the body to heal. Especially from something as bad as being stabbed in the shoulder.

Damocles shrugged. "Could be worse." He said, stepping marginally closer as the absence of danger became apparent. "Not the first time I've been knocked around, and it won't be the last." The figure stilled, and Oliver could almost feel the shift in the man's gaze. "Although something tells me you didn't arrange this just to give me a clean bill of health."

"You're right, I didn't." Oliver admitted, taking a few slow steps forward. "Ever since we met, ever since I first heard about you, I've been trying to make up my mind about you. Whether you're a genuine help or a hidden threat, whether you're skilled enough for me to allow you to stay out here." He could practically see the muscles tighten beneath the dark clothing as Damocles stiffened, either at the implied insult or at the potential danger he might face from a disapproving archer. "And after your actions, I've made up my mind."

"Which is?" Damocles asked, hands slowly inching towards the exposed ends of his batons.

"When we first met," Oliver began, "you proposed a partnership. To stop a group of murderers and thieves, in order to protect those being put at risk by their crimes." A few more steps, and he was right in front of the vigilante, whose gloved hands had dropped away from his weapons as he listened.

"I'd like to continue that idea, on a more… permanent level." Raising his hand, Oliver uncurled his fingers to reveal the device resting in his palm. It wasn't much, a repurposed piece of tech from a leftover arrow shaft, with the added addition of a small button atop the black metal, but it was still enough to confuse Damocles. The vigilante's eyes stared at Oliver with a look of puzzlement.

"It's a portable panic button." Oliver explained. "Small, but incredibly precise. You press that button, and your location is sent through directly to me, along with a message for urgent help." He watched as Damocles' eyes, he could see them to be hazel coloured at this distance, widen slightly at the implication of what he was saying. "Let's call it a promise, that I will be there to help should you need it, since you've already done the same for me."

Damocles was silent for a few long moments, eyes flitting between Oliver and the device. Slowly, however, his fingers began to curl around the small implement, as his other hand rose.

"A partnership…" He muttered, raising his eyes to Oliver once again as the hazel orbs seemed to burn gold. "I like the sound of that."

Oliver said nothing, only nodding and gripping the proffered hand the same way he had when the pair had first met, before turning and leaping over the edge of the building, grappling arrow already lancing through the air. Inside, he felt as though another heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. As it had been when Diggle and Felicity had signed on, he knew that he was not alone in his crusade for Starling, that there was someone else willing to fight for the city he called home. And he couldn't help the growing sense of hope in his chest.

The war against crime seemed an eternal one. But even against the odds they faced now, one new warrior could change the course of the next battle, and those still to come. All that was needed was patience.

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 **And here we go, chapter three.**

 **I am really sorry for the long wait. As you can see, this chapter kinda got away from me while I was writing. This is beginning to become a recurring theme these days, so please do feel free to criticise if I start writing too much per chapter. Also, I get that the end might not be the best, but I've never been very good at those either. Again, feel free to point anything out.**

 **So, I just wanted to give you lot a heads up. In terms of canon for the show, Aidan/Damocles is not going to make much of a difference until I properly start the Thea/OC stuff. Which will not be for another few chapters yet, so just hold on. I'm working as hard as I can to get this written up faster, so we can get to the good stuff, but just letting you know.**

 **Anyways, that is all I have to say, so I hope you guys and gals enjoyed, please do review if you feel like it and tell as many people as you can about this.**

 **Until next time,**

 **TImeFury1347**


	4. Crucible

The Queen Mansion was no stranger to parties. Aside from the handful that had been held the year before, there had been get-togethers of varying sizes, and volumes, from the say that Queen Consolidated had first been launched to wealth and prominence. People hadn't been able to get enough of the powerful Robert Queen, and the feeling had continued on to his charismatic son Oliver. If the Queens were holding a party, then virtually everyone who was _anyone_ in Starling knew that it was the place to be.

And, despite the hit that the Queen name had taken in the Undertaking and its months of fallout, the simple party logic of the city did still seem to hold true. For the most part.

Stood beside Isabel Rochev in the foyer, Oliver fought to stifle a yawn as he welcomed yet another socialite couple. He pretended that he didn't hear the barely lowered whispers from the pair both before and after they had entered, pretended not to see the shifting look of distrust and greed in their eyes, and forced his legendary playboy grin to stay fixed on his face, even as it slowly began to crumble around the edges. He was usually better at staying in character when it was needed, the practise of a lifetime of parties forming the perfect façade, but tonight he just couldn't find it in himself to wear the mask like he usually would. Maybe it was the hushed words about his mother that he'd been forced to listen to all evening, maybe it was the absence of any investments from all these wealthy guests who had been drinking the provided champagne like there was no tomorrow.

Or maybe it was the almost muted sound of gunfire in his ear, streaming from the practically invisible earpiece he had slipped in before coming out tonight.

"I must say, Mr Queen, I am surprised to see you here." Isabel remarked as the newest guest moved off. "You don't exactly have a reputation for punctuality."

"Well, I felt things would go a bit smoother tonight if I showed up." Oliver retorted, carefully forgetting the 'debate' he and Diggle had had about the event only a few hours earlier while keeping his smile firmly fixed to his lips. "Save the fashionably late entrances for the club scene."

Isabel nodded. "A wise choice." She complimented, although Oliver could see the slight disappointment she failed to hide. Ever since he had managed to maintain his position at the company, Isabel had been doing her best to undermine his spot as CEO, almost certainly with the intention of taking the role in its full capacity. And, despite the growing boredom that the night was bringing with it, it was nice to see her plan for his removal take a hit.

"Excuse me for a minute." He said after a beat, moving further into the mansion as yet another benefactor showed up. He weaved his way through the crowd, stopping every once in a while to exchange pleasantries with this guest or that. This investment party was important for the continuation of Queen Consolidated, and Oliver knew he'd have to take something of an active role in actually achieving the purpose of the event. He almost dreaded thinking about what might have happened if he hadn't shown up, although the idea was steadily growing more and more appealing. The new partnership had truly, unlike tonight, been a good investment, even if the muffled gunfire being sent through his ear did seem louder than it should have been.

After about ten minutes, he was finally able to find a quiet corner of the party, away from any prying eyes or ears. Pressing a finger to his ear, he listened to the loud bursts of assault rifles for several moments before speaking.

"How are things going?" He asked, trusting the line's modulator to disguise his voice.

' _I'm working on it!'_ The familiar base tone of Damocles shot back, sounding slightly out of breath. _'Just give me a…'_ More gunfire cut his words off, and Oliver waited, his concern growing as the sounds of combat were relayed to him. He trusted the vigilante, but even so, his irritation at being left in the dark was slowly beginning to rise.

What the hell was going on over there?

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Ducking under another wild spray of gunfire, Aidan dropped behind one of the buildings that lined the docks, fighting to catch his breath as he quickly checked himself over. A few lines of crimson from where a handful of bullets had nicked his skin, a few scrapes and bruises attributed to his trying to avoid the spray and pray tactics of the gangbangers present, but nothing worse than that. Quite a surprise, given the almost limitless ammo these guys seemed to have, but a welcome one. The fewer bullets that ended up in his body, the better.

The sheer scale of how much he had underestimated the guards of this shipment really was a shock to him. The Arrow had told him that it would most likely be a tough fight, but even so, the hardware these thugs were packing was ridiculous. Instead of their usual black-market guns, the weapons they were using wouldn't have looked out of place in a military camp. Harder hitting than Starling's regular armament, and even less of a need to aim than before, something Aidan had been experiencing first hand for the past few minutes. It was part of what had kept him at somewhat of a distance from the trio, unwilling to get too close too soon. If one of these bullets managed to properly get him, he knew it was highly unlikely that he'd be able to simply walk away from the fight as usual. These guns would tear him to shreds with just a few rounds, a fate he was more than eager to avoid. As his breathing finally slowed to normal, his mind went into overdrive as he sought to find a way to overcome his current predicament. If he couldn't, then tonight would be ending _really_ badly for him, one way or another.

Poking his head out slightly to peer around the wall, Aidan was granted a brief second to locate his foes before the bark of the rifles began again, sending dust and flakes of brick into the air inches from his face and forcing him back into cover. It had been enough, however. There were still three guys, although only one was near his position. The other two were closer to the shipment, maintaining their guard while their friend was apparently in charge of hunting down the newest resistance. The third man, as indicated by the rattling gunfire, had spotted him, with the pounding footsteps indicating that he was growing rapidly nearer.

"He's over here, man, he's over…" The gang member shouted to his friends as he rushed around the corner, gun raised with the clear intention of turning the vigilante into swiss cheese. He was never given the chance, as Aidan quickly lashed out, fist lancing into the man's solar plexus before smashing the side of his head against the wall, dropping him to the ground like a marionette puppet with its strings cut. Stooping down, he grabbed the thug's dropped weapon, spending a second checking the weapon over. Still almost half a clip left over, more than enough for what he had planned. Raising the weapon, he took a deep breath before spinning around the corner and squeezing hard on the trigger. It was a tactic he had employed many times before, and one that had proved successful again and again. Bullets tore through the air, and the two remaining shooters ducked down as death whizzed over their heads, although the sudden loud scream told him that one had been significantly less lucky than the other. Taking advantage of the confusion, Aidan rushed forward, bullets still flying through the air before the _click_ of an empty magazine sounded. The hail had only lasted for a few seconds, but it had served its purpose. He had gotten close enough so that, by the time the thugs recognised the sound of silence after the echoes had faded, it was already too late for them to mount any kind of successful defence.

Flipping the gun around in his hands, Aidan slammed the butt into the stomach of one of the gangbangers like a baseball bat, metal stock meeting flesh in a painful thud that send the man into the wall, dry retching and barely conscious. Turning to face the last man, Aidan spent the first moment just looking at them in slight surprise. The man had completely frozen, one hand pressed to his side tightly as blood leaked over his hand from a wound that Aidan himself had far too much experience in. The assault rifle, already held lightly in the remaining free hand, clattered to the ground as the gang member's fingers lost their grip, the man staring at him in sheer terror. Snapping out of his still state, Aidan darted forward in a threatening manner, as though he were simply yelling 'Boo!' Still, it was enough, as the last man almost fell backwards at the move, scrabbling on the wet and dirty floor before fleeing, gun abandoned and forgotten as he tore away from the scene, desperate for escape. The vigilante just watched him go as he raced to the end of the street and out of sight. There was no point in trying to run down an already wounded man, especially when he already had what he needed right in front of him.

Knelling beside the delirious man, Aidan watched him for a second before gripping one arm, standing quickly as he twisted the limb painfully up. The thug, dragged away from the wall he had been leaning against by the action, snapped back to reality in an instant, groans turning to screams as the pressure on his bones mounted. The man's eyes rolled around in their sockets for a second, looking for their attacker, before latching onto the ghastly grin of Aidan's mask, the sight instantly filling the wide orbs with fear. It was nice when such a reaction occurred, Aidan thought, staring down at his 'victim'. Made his job so much easier.

"Where are you getting the guns?" He demanded, growl coupling with his voice distortion to create a truly terrifying sound.

"I-I-I don't know!" The man stuttered, looking around wildly for some kind of escape. Aidan raised his other hand, quickly twisting one finger of the trapped hand with a horrible _crunch_. The man screamed again.

"That was one finger." Aidan informed the whimpering man. "You've got nine more before this gets interesting."

"I swear, man, I don't know!" The thug begged. "Mayor sent us to pick 'em up, never told us nothin' 'bout where they came from."

Looking into the terrified man's eyes for a few seconds more, Aidan came to a decision. Leaning down slightly, he fixed a dark gaze on the thug, making him squirm slightly under the inspection.

"I catch you out here again," he promised, "I break the other one." Before the thug had a chance to ask what he meant, Aidan twisted the trapped limb, snapping the bone in one sharp move. The thug screamed for a second as the arm dropped painfully to the ground, before a quick jab to the nose knocked him out fully. Standing, Aidan picked up the gun he had tossed away, reaching for his ear to activate the commlink.

"Gangbangers are down." He reported, looking over the weapon in his hands with no small sense of dread. "They were using automatic M4A1 assault rifles." Not exactly common in the Glades, or anywhere else in the city.

' _Those are military grade weapons."_ The voice of the dark-skinned man he knew only as BD informed the two men listening. _'Stolen, most likely.'_

' _Stolen from where?'_ The Arrow asked, a worry in his tone that matched that in Aidan's core. If these criminals had managed to get their hands on weapons of this calibre, there was no knowing what chaos they might reap with them, especially if more began to use them.

"Wherever these came from, these grunts weren't paid enough to know." Aidan sighed. "And their boss isn't exactly easy to find, let alone ask."

' _We'll look into it later.'_ The Arrow decided. _'For now, secure the hardware and get the police there.'_

"You got it." Aidan answered, ending the conversation as he pulled out several zip cuffs. Still, even as he tied up the two unconscious bodies and sent an anonymous tipoff to the cops, he couldn't help the sense of apprehension growing in him at the mention of the thugs' boss.

The Mayor was one of the newest gang lords that had risen up since the Undertaking, taking advantage of the chaos to establish his own power. However, unlike the others, he was practically a ghost. While the other gang leaders were either known by the cops or incarcerated, one or two thanks to Aidan's subtle help, the Mayor had never been seen, ruling through his well-armed enforcers with a brutal, almost Spartan level of efficiency and ruthlessness. His territory was perhaps the most dangerous area of the Glades, even when his men _weren't_ fully armed to the teeth. And even before, they had been more or less limited to the standard level of firepower.

If they could get their hands on more stuff like this, then Aidan knew it would be war on the streets. And with the police already stretched thin, he didn't know whether the Mayor could be stopped before it was too late.

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Crouched at the edge of the roof, Sara watched as, in the building opposite, Laurel moved through her apartment, preparing for bed after her party. The blonde's eyes fixed on her sister as a sense of sadness and slight longing grew in her. It had been six years since she had 'died', six years since she had last seen her family, and she had changed a lot from the naïve girl she had once been. She was a woman now, a killer, and the life she had once had was gone. It had died the night the Queen's Gambit was swallowed up by the sea.

Still, despite all that had happened to her, all the pain and torment she had been put through to mould her into what she was today, Sara couldn't help the desire to rekindle what had been lost. It was what had brought her back to Starling, what had made her watch over and protect her sister. Something in her heart longed to just be Sara Lance again, younger sister to Laurel and loving daughter of Quentin. But still, a larger part of her knew that it could never come to be. Her life, especially in more recent days, had become dangerous, and she couldn't drag her family into it. She doubted that she'd be able to live with herself should something happen to them, something that could have been prevented by her simply staying away. Brining Sin in was bad enough, but at least the spunky girl knew how to hit the ground running should the worst come to pass. Between the two vigilantes watching over her, she'd always have someone watching her back. But Laurel and her father, they were the last pieces of the old Sara left, and if they were brought into the darkness of her life, then that memory of who she once was would die. And it was a memory she couldn't quite bring herself to depart with just yet.

And so, she watched, a ghostly protector of the few final pieces of her humanity.

Her watch was interrupted, however, as she sensed a presence behind her, a very familiar one. Years of training kicked in, and she turned and ran, just as an arrow embedded itself in the wall behind her. Running along the edge of the rooftop, she jumped down onto a lower surface, maintaining her speed as she sought to escape what was chasing her. Yet another ghost from her past.

As she ran across the rooftop, her movement was brought to a sudden halt as her body was ensnared by two long lines. Looking around, she saw the two pre-positioned crossbows on the ground, set up perfectly to ambush her. She had to hand it to her pursuer, they were very well prepared. Struggling against her bonds briefly, she looked up as the bow-wielding man approached, stalking slowly across the rooftop. Although his features were obscured in the shadows of the familiar green hood, Sara knew the face that lay beneath it, knew the man making his way towards her. It was someone that she had practically prayed not to come across during her nightly activities, lest he bring her fragile existence in the city crumbling down.

Trying to suppress the fear growing inside her, less for the man and more for what his actions might mean in the long run, she struggled to pull out her 'canary cry' and activate it, tossing the device to the ground in front of her. The ear-piercing sound was blocked out by her specially built ear plugs, but it should have brought her captor to his knees, most likely with blood pooling out of his ears. But instead, he just kept moving towards her at a calm, almost leisurely pace, as though the sonic disc and the sharp warbling coming from it didn't exist.

"Can it get any louder?" He asked, tapping the side of his head as he spoke. With a huff of annoyance at her tech's failure, she turned the device off remotely, although her finger stayed poised over its other feature in anticipation.

"Why are you following Laurel Lance?" The Arrow demanded.

"I could ask the same thing of you." She shot back, letting a hint of nostalgia soak into her words. "I guess some things never change. You and her, always and forever." Her words forced the sunned vigilante back a step.

"Who are you?" He demanded again.

"Once you know, your life will never be the same." Sara stated, silently begging him to let things be. No such luck emerged, however.

"I could take it."

"Not this time." She said with a hint of regret. The game was up. "Ollie."

Sara could see the eyes of the man she had once loved widen under his hood as the facts seemed to register in his mind, before he haltingly pulled off both her mask and wig simultaneously. Platinum was replaced by dirty blonde, and the hooded figure of liver stumbled back, stunned, as he took her in.

"Sara?" He asked in shock, seemingly unable to accept the truth about the woman in front of him.

"I'll give you some time to let it sink in." Sara said, before pressing down on the sonic device's self-destruct. It cried out its tune one last time before exploding, sending Oliver crashing to the roof. Sara used the confusion to quickly slip the bonds she had been steadily loosening throughout the conversation, a skill picked up through her years of training, before taking the few steps needed to throw herself off the edge of the building. It took almost half a dozen blocks before she felt safe enough to stop, pausing for a moment before she began the trek back to the Clock Tower. She needed to replace her sonic device to begin with, and then there was the revelation of her survival. It hadn't been ideal, and still far too early in her mind, but there was nothing to be done now. The damage had been done, all she could do was try and weather the oncoming storm.

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Wrapping her fingers securely around the handle of the plastic takeaway bag while the other gripped the cardboard cup holder, Sin pulled herself up the steps of the trapdoor and into the Clock Tower. The hurried mug of coffee was only just starting to hit her system, and she let out a sigh as she felt some of the pressure lessen behind her eyes. She had had a long night, and wanted nothing more than to simply fall into bed. Still, having breakfast with Sara was not an opportunity she was going to pass up, even if she would have preferred it with both her surrogate sister _and_ brother.

Her upbringing had never been particularly stable, to say the least. Her mother had died when Sin was just a toddler, and the few memories she had of the woman, the sound of her voice and the colour of her hair, had been steadily worn away by the ravages of almost two decades. And so, for a long time, it had just been Sin and her dad. The only period of consistency in her life, and she had been too young to properly appreciate it. She had had fun with her dad, the final sports game he had taken her to holding pride of place. And then, just like her mother, he was gone, although his fate was much more obscure. She still didn't know what had happened to him, whether he was dead or had simply gotten fed up and left. Whatever the reason, he was gone, and Sin was on her own. Well, not completely.

From their friendship's humble origin as neighbours in the same apartment building, Aidan had been by her side for nigh on a decade. From playing with her when both were bored, to helping her find safe areas of the city to sleep at night (his own family issues had made living with him impossible), to working together in less-than-legal business to keep her with enough money to survive for more than a week, there had not been a moment from her seventh birthday that he had not been by her side, the older brother she had always longed for. Even his nocturnal vigilantism couldn't hamper that, with him teaching her the moves he had perfected out on the streets to defend herself. They were best friends, brother and sister, and it had worked for so long.

And then, when Sara came along, Sin finally had the family she had longed for, to replace the one she had never truly had the chance to have.

Smiling wistfully at the memories subtly pushing their way into her mind, Sin moved through the Clock Tower, turning around a piece of the scaffold as she arrived at the centre of the room. Sara stood there, still dressed in her black leather and seemingly oblivious to the world as she stared out the window and into the city below. Sin was about to open her mouth to alert her friend to her presence when the woman spun on the spot, baton telescoping out as she prepared to attack. The weapon stopped only an inch from her nose, but she didn't flinch. She'd been around the ninja long enough to grow accustomed to these occasional displays. Instead, she looked down at the point of the staff, before shifting her eyes back up to the blonde vigilante.

Sara sighed as she lowered her weapon, although this was quickly replaced by a smirk as she saw the bag in Sin's hand. "Told you. The Patty Shack on 5th and Brewer, best burgers in town." The blonde said almost triumphantly.

"Well, Patty Shack's in the Mayor's territory, so I'll take a sub-par breakfast over a bullet." Sin explained by way of justification for the food, dropping to the floor and crossing her legs as she reached for a sandwich. While Patty Shack may have been delicious, Sin having tested their wares multiple times in the past, it just wasn't worth the danger. Despite the work of the 'Woman in Black' and Damocles, the presence of the Mayor in certain parts of the Glades was very heavily felt. There were stories of people being shot or even killed, simply for walking down the street, since the Mayor deemed them 'breaking his laws'. Hell, even if she wasn't shot on sight by some trigger-happy moron, Sin's business in information had, despite her best efforts, garnered her something of a 'reputation' in the Glades. And the last thing she needed was to be cornered by someone enlisting her 'assistance' in certain matters, whether she wanted to help or not. Short of the Mayor's operation going under, or up in very bright fireworks, she wouldn't be going anywhere near there without one vigilante or another to back her up.

Fishing out one of the sandwiches and holding it out to Sara, Sin noticed the listless look on her friend's face. "What's wrong?" She asked, brow furrowing, as she worried what was bothering the blonde. "Look, I know I'm skinny, but I can eat two of these, and I will." Although her size had always been a bit of a sticking point for her, the names 'Shorty' and 'Pipsqueak' lasting far longer than they should have, it seemed the fastest way to get her friend to open up from whatever inner turbulence she was feeling. Besides, she _was_ pretty hungry.

Sara leaned back against one of the room's support pillars, before slowly sliding to the ground to join her young friend. "Just ran into an old boyfriend." She explained to the girl. "Just…worried that he might tell my family I'm back."

"You have family in Starling?" Sin asked, surprised. As close as they were, Sara always seemed to be hiding something, deep down inside her. Sin had just learned to accept the woman's secretive nature, so this revelation was understandably able to shock her just a little bit.

"Yeah." Sara answered. "My father, he's a-" She hesitated for a moment, as if unsure what to say. "-he's a policeman. And my sister, she's a lawyer." Sin huffed out a small laugh at the career paths.

"Well, they must be real proud f their masked delinquent." She joked, taking a sip of her soda to wash down the food.

"Yeah, they think I'm dead." Sara admitted. This definitely surprised Sin, and she paused in her actions. She was hiding from her family? She hadn't been expecting that. Eventually, though, she just gave her friend a wry smile.

"Oh, cool." She responded with a note of acceptance. "My dad thinks I'm dead, too. That or he wishes I'd never been born. One of those." Even after five years, it was still a sore topic, although she shook the feeling of hurt off quickly. She didn't need her father, she had Sara and Aidan. That was more than enough.

Sara only chuckled in response, and silence fell over the pair for a moment. Sin sat in deep thought for a second, before giving life to the question itching in her mind. "Why don't you want them to know that you're still alive?"

"'Cause I'm not what they remember." Sara said sadly.

"Good little daddy's girl?" Sin guessed, and Sara's laugh proved her wrong almost instantly.

"Actually, far from it. I was a lot like you." The blonde admitted, and Sin could feel a warmth in her chest at the words. Aidan had always been the calmer or the two, a necessity to stop his dad from smashing a bottle over his head. So, to hear the connection she held to her friend was nice, even as it was tainted by the memory of their first meeting.

"Is that why you saved me from those guys that night?" She asked, and she could practically feel the air chill slightly at the effect of the words. The night the two of them had met was simultaneously one of the best and worst moment of her life. Not long after the Undertaking, Sin had been grabbed by a group of drunk brutes and dragged into an alley, to be their 'entertainment' for the evening. The stink of their breath and the roughness of their hands still haunted her, and, had Sara not come along and intervened when she did, Sin knew exactly what would have happened, and how she would have ended up. The night had seen the start of a beautiful friendship, but it was also a time that she never wanted to remember, just because of how close her attackers had come.

Sara looked at her with a serious expression, one that had clearly been born through shared pain and experience. "No woman should ever suffer at the hands of men." She intoned, the conviction behind the words practically strong enough to come alive. And Sin knew that her friend would move heaven and earth to back up her belief.

The pair sat in silence for several long moments after the declaration, neither willing to break the sombre tone that had fallen over the 'meal'. Eventually, however, Sara seemed to decide that enough was enough, as she reached for the sandwich Sin had left in the bag.

"Where's Aidan?" She asked, pulling off the wrapping that encased her food. "I've never known him to turn down the offer of a meal." Sin laughed at that. The appetite of their mutual friend was indeed becoming legendary.

"He went after a weapons shipment." She informed her, taking a bite of her sandwich as she answered. "Automatic rifles for the Mayor."

"Is he alright?" Sara asked, sitting up slightly as she took in the news. Sin couldn't help but smile slightly at the perfect 'big sister' act the blonde was playing.

"He's fine." She reassured the older vigilante. "A few scrapes and stitches, but nothing major. Honestly, he was more exhausted than hurt."

This seemed to calm Sara, and she sank back down before confusion grew in her eyes. "Wait, how did he find out about the shipment? Those things are practically untraceable." Sin hesitated, unsure whether to let her friend know or not. Eventually, she reached a decision.

"He's been working with the Arrow." She confessed. "Got a call at the start of the night about a weapon's deal, Aidan went to check it out." Sara's face morphed into a look of deep thought, the concern in her eyes unmissable.

"Does he trust him?" She asked at last. Sin considered for a moment, before slowly nodding.

"I think so. The Arrow gave him some kind of panic button, and the two have been working together pretty much since those medical truck hijacks, so, yeah. He trusts him." This appeared to be the right answer, as Sara relaxed again, the worry leaking out of her eyes as she grabbed the second drink.

"I'll talk to him about his new 'partnership' next time I see him," She decided, and Sin couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for her friend, "but until then, let's forget about it." Raising the takeaway drink, she bumped it lightly against Sin's own.

"To Aidan," she toasted, "God knows what he'd do without us." Sin's laughter at the words quickly grew infectious, and soon the two women were laughing away, the city outside forgotten as they simply enjoyed each other's company.

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Looking over the 'abandoned' strip club from the large central room's second level, Oliver fixed his eyes on the large crate of weaponry that rested on the stage, small red light visible even from his distance. None of the thugs seemed to have noticed the change yet, something that made the man incredibly grateful. The hardware this lot were sure to be packing was a serious threat, and the more time he had to prepare, the better. With his head on a swivel, Oliver quickly counted up the number of men present, forming a plan of action as he did so. Just over a dozen, unsurprising due to this being the Mayor's centre of operations, all armed with weapons that were fresh from whatever military camp they had been stolen from. Not enough to make him reconsider the attack, that ship having sailed the moment he entered the building, but still sufficient to make him grateful for the man stood beside him, also looking down at the area below.

He had contacted the vigilante almost as soon as Diggle and Felicity had revealed the technology that could be used to track the weapon crates. Since there had been no trace of any crates found in Starling to match the description provided by his ally's report of recent events, it was easy to assume that the Mayor had taken them to his base, in order to consolidate and protect the tools that had brought him right to the top of the food chain in the Glades. And, if the weapons were there, it was highly likely that a large group of thugs would not be far away. While Oliver had faced worse odds on his own before, the military weaponry these gangbangers would almost certainly be using forced him to realise that this couldn't be just a one-man operation. One attacker would only succeed in drawing all possible gunfire, severely lowering the likelihood of survival. But a partner could assist in dividing the attention, aiding in separating and crushing whatever concentration of thugs would be present. The perfect chance to put the Mayor out of office.

"Are you ready?" Oliver spoke in a low voice as he questioned his partner. Damocles nodded in response, batons already in hand and spinning lazily between his fingers.

"Yeah, I'm ready." He answered, and Oliver could hear the anticipation in his tone, the man almost itching to get started.

"Remember, these guns are extremely powerful." He said, eyes sliding back to the Mayor, as he turned to finally face the crate. "Move fast, don't get hit." IF the vigilante had a reply, it was held back as the time to strike finally arrived.

"I thought you deactivated the tracker!" The red light on the crate had finally been noticed, as the Mayor shouted at one of the nearby thugs. The gang lord quickly smashed the tracker with the butt of his rifle, and Oliver stood, bow raised and arrow nocked as he picked his target. With the whistle of an arrow, one man toppled over, arrow shaft protruding from his shoulder. The eyes of every gang member were drawn to the hooded man in the next second, and, as he nocked and fired another arrow, Oliver knew that Hell was ready to rain down on his head, summoned through the chatter of gunfire.

As the spray-and-pray firing began, Oliver moved rapidly, dodging the storm of bullets as he returned fire, arrow after arrow flying down into the crows below. As he worked to thin the herd, Oliver was careful to keep an eye on the figure of Damocles. The vigilante was currently in a world of his own, having dropped to the ground floor as soon as the first arrow had been launched through the air. From the thug that had been practically pushed through the ground, it was clear to see how the vigilante had used the man as an impromptu crash mat, leading him to the centre of a group of thugs, all of whom were now far more focused on this newest threat. Although his moves were slightly unrefined, Oliver couldn't help but be impressed as Damocles worked his way through the gangbangers. A mixture of trained moves and bar brawling was unleashed on the quartet of gunners, fists and feet flying as they were slowly whittled away by the man in black. Despite the multitude of hits he had taken, it didn't seem like Damocles was going down anytime soon, as first one then another thug was forced to the ground, either from a fist to the face or a steel baton to the temple. And the body count just kept growing.

Dropping another three thugs in rapid succession, Oliver dropped down to the ground floor, moving to aid his ally in joining the fray properly. However, as soon as his feet hit the stage, it became clear that the fight was already over. Despite their weapons, practically every man present was making a dash for the exit, trying to escape the two vigilantes. Raising his bow, Oliver aimed a shot at the figure of the Mayor, intent on bringing an end to the gang by cutting off its head. He was too late, however, as his target disappeared through the door before he could get a clear shot. Frowning, he walked over to the crate of assault rifles, checking the cache over before tapping his commlink.

"Weapons are secure." He informed his team back at base.

' _And the Mayor?'_ Diggle asked. Oliver let out a frustrated sigh.

"Still in office." He replied, annoyed. Ending the commlink, he turned as footsteps approached, seeing Damocles making his way towards the crates. The man was limping slightly, and Oliver quickly took notice of the hand pressed gingerly to the masked man's side.

"You okay?" He asked, concerned. Damocles grunted.

"Been better." He growled, coming to a halt and partially supporting himself against the side of the crate. "Mayor got away, didn't he?"

Oliver nodded. "We still don't have a name. Unless he comes out himself, all we can do is wait."

"Or we could draw him out." Damocles suggested. "The Mayor may be good at covering his tracks, but he's also egotistical. Give him a big enough challenge, and he won't be able to resist." Oliver paused, considering the thought. In essence, it was a good idea. After tonight, it was likely that the Mayor would go underground, an action that would only buy him time to regroup and restock what had been lost, eventually coming back stronger than ever. Therefore, Oliver needed to get him now, while he was still weakened. And, since the Arrow couldn't go after the Mayor again, then the Mayor would have to come to him. The only problem was where.

"Any idea where he can be drawn out?" He asked Damocles, the man seeming to be in deep thought for several second before answering.

"The gun buy-back." He answered eventually, and Oliver felt his stomach drop at the words. "Everyone in the Glades knows about it, it's supposed to be a big event. Might as well put up a neon sign saying 'Screw you' as far as the Mayor's concerned."

"Alright." Oliver acknowledged, thinking quickly as the pieces began to fall into place, a plan already forming in his mind. "Rest up for now, I'll be in touch." Damocles nodded, heading towards the exit, almost hopping slightly from whatever damage he'd taken. Oliver spent a few more minutes in the club, securing the downed thugs and sending an anonymous tip off to the cops before making his own getaway.

The buy-back wasn't too far away now, and he needed to have a serious talk with Diggle surrounding his recent security concerns for the day.

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In the shadow of one of the large bridge support columns, out of sight of the large gathering of people not too far away, Aidan crouched by the duffle bag set against the concrete. Unzipping the large bag, he reached in and pulled out a small assortment of handguns. Two Glocks, a Smith & Wesson revolver, and a Tec-9. Laying the set on the ground, he zipped up the bag and, after quickly checking around for anyone who might be watching, picked up the ammo-less weapons and rose, heading back towards the collection of booths, all decorated by the same banners. He winced slightly as he walked, the injuries taken to his ribs and legs still rather tender.

It had been a few says since the attack on the Mayor's hideout, and the gun buy-back was in fully swing. Although the event's sponsor was an anonymous one, no one seemed to particularly care. The removal of weapons at least had the chance to make the Glades that little bit safer, while the money those giving away their firearms were paid would definitely make the deal that much sweeter. Even if it wasn't much, it was still something, enough to keep a person, or even a family going for just a little bit longer while the city district fought to pull itself back together. From the weapons he had handed in, Aidan had already acquired almost one and a half thousand dollars, although the amount had already been donated to the numerous rebuild efforts. It wasn't like he needed the money, and besides, this way he could at least put the weapons to good use for a change.

The collection had been a rather impressive one, several dozen weapons that had been accumulated over the period of about half a decade. The first dozen or so had belonged to Aidan's own father, collected by the man to aid him in his less than legal work. Now that he was gone, the collection had been passed to his son, who had only helped to grow its size through the multiple firearms he had confiscated from the wide range of criminals and gangbangers he had gone up against. However, despite the weapons' prior uses, the small arsenal had not been touched in a long time, left in the Crypt to gather dust and certainly never used for their intended purposes. And, even after almost three years of it being in his possession, Aidan couldn't quite bring himself to get rid of the collection, more due to worry over their possible fate than any kind of misplaced sentiment. Now, however, he had a chance to rid himself of their evil presence, doing some good in the Glades that didn't involve bruising his knuckles.

Not to mention, they provided him the perfect excuse to stick around in preparation for any attack by the Mayor.

"No sign of him yet." Aidan muttered into the almost invisible earpiece as he walked, eyes slowly moving around the buy-back as they sought for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing truly stuck out for him, aside from the half a dozen men milling around the event, same as him. Whoever, had organised the buy-back had clearly taken precautions. Although, given the hardware the Mayor seemed to have access to, Aidan was of two minds about how successful they'd be by way of repelling an assault.

' _Keep your eyes open.'_ The Arrow responded in his familiar low growl. _'Things might change at any moment.'_

"Understood." Aidan agreed, not even bothering to look for any sign of a green hood. If the Arrow was here, he doubted that the man would be quite s obvious. Just the fact that he was indeed present was enough.

"How many more of those you got left?" Sin asked him as he approached, leaning against of the nearby parked cars, arms crossed over her chest. Despite the false shine of amusement in her eye, Aidan could tell she was quickly getting bored.

"Unless something happens soon, not enough." He answered, gripping the barrel of his revolver as he offered her the grip. She let out an exaggerated gasp.

"You always think of the nicest presents." Sin remarked sarcastically, hands remaining firmly in her jacket pockets. "What's next, a crossbow?"

"Don't tempt me." He jokingly threatened. "Besides, I'm starting to get some weird looks." It was true. Even though he had tried to go to a different stall each time, the staff on duty were beginning to give him suspicious looks. Although, given his large accumulation of weaponry, he could hardly blame them.

"Maybe in a bit." Sin said, sounding slightly distracted as she looked over his shoulder. "There's someone I need to talk to." The slightly mischievous look in her eye didn't exactly help fill Aidan with any confidence.

"Fine," he acquiesced, "but play nice." With a smirk that promised the exact opposite, Sin moved away, and Aidan watched as she sauntered towards two people, one of whom looked awfully familiar in his red hoodie. Shaking his head, he turned to walk towards one of the stalls, pushing his friend's latest antics from his mind. She could take care of herself.

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From the fringes of the buy-back, Oliver watched the event, standing as still as a statue. Although there was no sign of his connection to the event, he had found it almost impossible to stay away, even before the most recent development. The work being done here was important for the future of the Glades, and a part of him was simply enjoying seeing the people of the Glades begin to come together in front of him, ready to rebuild their homes after months of pain. It was nice to see such a hopeful sight, and it even managed to take his mind off the issues surrounding the Lances that he had been pulled into, if only for a bit. However, it was another part of his mind, one much colder and darker, that had pulled him to where he now stood.

Damocles' words had played over in his head, the truth of them resonating strongly within his ears. If the Mayor was ever going to come out in public of his own accord, now would be the time. With the loss of his latest weapons shipment and hideout, Oliver knew that the gang leader could not afford to take any further hits. Chip away at the roots enough, and even the greatest tree will come crashing down. The Mayor had been backed into a corner, and Oliver knew from long experience that cornered animals would always lash out. It was only a matter of time, and, as he watched Diggle's small security team and the limited police presence at the event's perimeter, Oliver hoped that it would be enough. The Mayor was a cancer, one that needed to be removed soon. Either today, or as soon as Felicity could find out who he was. The security cameras dotted around the area provided her the perfect opportunity to do so.

And, should the chance come about, today might provide them an insight to the identity of their newest ally.

"You don't show up when you say you will," a voice called out from beside him, "and when you promise not to, here you are." Turning, Oliver noticed that Sebastian Blood had moved to stand beside him, apparently spotting him as he looked on. He hid his annoyance at being distracted enough to miss the man's approach.

"It's going well?" He asked.

"Last check, we've taken in over 250 guns in only 3 hours." Blood informed him, clearly glad about the day's success. Oliver, however, couldn't put aside his trepidation for even one minute, something the voice of the Glades noticed. "Try not to look so happy about it."

"A lot on my mind, alderman." Oliver said apologetically, the tiredness he felt easily leaking into his voice. With the threat of the Mayor combined with the revelation of Sara's survival and Laurel's self-destructive coping mechanism… he'd be lying if he said he was fine.

"My job is to help the people in this city with their problems." Blood responded, and Oliver debated with himself briefly before turning to face the alderman.

"Two people that are very important to me are having a tough time." Oliver began, surprised by the ease of his words. With everything that had been happening lately, it was good to get some of it off his chest. "Sisters, actually. And neither one of them is making it very easy for me to help them." If there was one word to describe the Lance family, stubborn was definitely suitable.

"Sooner or later, we all go through a crucible." Blood replied. "I'm guessing yours was that island." Oliver nodded slightly. That was certainly one way of putting it. "Most believe there are two types of people who go into a crucible- the ones who grow stronger from the experience and survive it, and the ones who die. But there's a third type. The ones who learn to love the fire." He continued. "They choose to stay in their crucible because it's easier to embrace the pain when it's all you know anymore." Blood cast his gaze around the event. "That's why I'm on the clock to help this city. Before it becomes used to living like this."

Oliver couldn't help but acknowledge the truth of the words. He had been through hell, and, while others around him had fallen, he had pushed through to the other side. But, given all he had been through since he finally left Lian Yu, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not the fire was done with him yet.

"Living is not for the weak." Oliver said, mind moving back five years to the 'Amazo'. "Old friend of mine told me that." He explained to the confused alderman.

"That's a wise friend." Blood agreed.

But, before anything else could be said, the peace was suddenly ripped apart by the chatter of gunfire.

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Aidan had just moved away from one of the stalls when the chaos began. The only warnings were the rumble of and engine and the sudden bursts of gunfire, and then, there he was. The Mayor, riding on the back of a tricked out pickup truck, along with a pair of goons, both wielding assault rifles. The truck roared as it smashed through the police barricades, sending people scattering. Aidan was barely able to pull a woman out of the way of one of the massive wheels as it thundered past, and he hurried to push her down behind a nearby car as the truck skidded to a halt. Whatever happened next, he knew it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Listen up, people. This is your mayor speaking." The man began, as the few police officers and hired security guards drew their guns and held them on the gang leader. This led to his two goons raising their own, much more powerful weapons, creating a tense Mexican standoff. "Now I don't recall this here event being sanctioned." The Mayor continued. "What happens in the Glades only happens if I allow it." Despite the volatile situation, Aidan couldn't help but feel slightly pleased. The Mayor had been drawn out of whatever hole he'd been hiding in. His ego would be his downfall.

"You're not the leader of this community!" Aidan's head whipped round as Sebastian Blood cried out angrily, stalking towards the truck. He had to admire the man's steel, but shook his head at the stupidity of the action. As charismatic as Blood was, it would provide no defence against a bullet through the chest.

"And neither do you." The Mayor replied, gesturing to his own men, who trained their guns on the man. "Not anymore."

A second before they opened fire, Aidan saw someone who looked a lot like Oliver Queen run up behind the alderman and tackle him, pulling him behind a squad car that was quickly raked with bullets. Their original target now out of sight, the goons wasted no time in turning their guns on everyone else, spraying bullets even as the police and security returned fire, turning the once peaceful even into a massacre.

Aidan didn't hesitate as he rushed forward, body so stooped he was almost parallel to the ground. Bullets tore through the air above him, one coming so close as to slice through the material of his jacket, but he didn't stop, even as the small cut that came with the tear began to bleed. Ahead of him, he could see a man drop to the ground, twisting as a hole was torn through his chest. Sending a mournful look to the body, he continued, sliding behind a car where one of the security guards lay, blood leaking from just to the side of his stomach. Aidan quickly picked up the dropped handgun by the man's side.

"Mind if I borrow this?" He asked, not waiting for a reply as he checked the magazine and readied the weapon, holding it in both hands as he carefully peaked out around the rear of the car. He knew it wouldn't be long before the goons spotted him, and he was determined to make his time count. Raising the gun, he carefully aimed before firing, the bullet flying through the air and into the knee of one goon. The man screamed in pain as he dropped to the back of the truck, bullets going wild as he fell, and his partner spun around, raining fire down on Aidan as he pulled back, pockmarks opening up rapidly in the asphalt where he had just been. He could only wait as the shoot-out continued, but he knew that it wouldn't last much longer. The Mayor didn't bring enough men for a drawn-out fight, and he was clearly outnumbered, even before one of his men had been dropped. The sound of the loud truck engine starting up again confirmed this, and Aidan carefully stood to watch as the Mayor retreated, the remaining goon still firing wildly to cover his boss.

The fight was over. But now, it was the aftermath's turn to rear its ugly head.

Looking around, Aidan couldn't help the sick feeling he had at the scene in front of him. No surface had been spared by the bullets, the small craters decorating the cars, the flipped tables, the tents and banners that were almost torn to pieces, and the now-bloodied ground. People lay everywhere, some moaning and shifting slowly while others remained still, blood leaking around them while empty eyes stared out from their sockets. Aidan could only count a few casualties, but knew that the number was likely to rise. Those were military-grade rifles, designed to be as deadly as possible. Be it from blood loss, a bullet lodged somewhere it shouldn't be, or simply a hole too large to patch over, the death count was almost certain to rise.

He began to move around the interrupted event, the security guard whose gun he had 'borrowed' already being seen to by a paramedic. He let his eyes roam over all those present, before they locked on one hunched over figure, and he felt the blood freeze in his veins.

" _CINDY!"_ He shouted, rushing to his friend's side as she fell backwards. Her hands and part of her shirt were covered in blood, and Aidan could just make out the hole in her abdomen from where she had been hit. He tore off his jacket, bundling it into a ball and pressing it to the wound, desperate to stem the flow of crimson. Movement caught his eye nearby, and he looked up to see the young man he had pulled from the flipped car only a few weeks ago, along with a dark-haired girl.

"Go get help." He instructed them, turning back to Sin before realising they were still there, looking almost frozen. "GO!" He screamed, the noise shaking them into action, both running off to call the paramedics that had begun to arrive.

"Stay with me, stay with me." He chanted to Sin, one hand keeping his jacket to her wound while the other held her head up. "Just keep your eyes open, please." He begged her, as recognition slowly swam into her tired blue eyes.

"Aidan?" She whispered, looking to barely be keeping her eyes open. "… 'M tired…" She barely managed to say before her blue orbs slowly disappeared behind her eyelids, and he was left cradling her body, feeling as though his heart had been torn from his chest for the second time in almost six months.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

It was amazing how people could look so peaceful when they slept. From her place outside the hospital room, Thea looked in as Roy waited for the doctor to give his analysis on the state of the young woman lying in the bed, hooked up to a number of machines needed to ensure she kept on living. It was almost impossible for the Queen heiress to connect the sarcastic street rat she had 'met' at the buy-back to this vulnerable gunshot victim, but it really didn't matter if she was being honest. Maybe her time with Roy had affected her more than she'd thought, letting her see past the rough exterior and see someone who, in all honesty, reminded Thea of herself a little, in herms of attitude. Just a little less polished, she supposed.

"The bullet penetrated her anterior abdomen." The doctor was telling Roy as Thea focused back in on the conversation. "We were able to remove most of the fragments. We'll know more in a few hours."

Roy nodded, and the doctor moved past him to walk out. Thea waited until he had moved down the hallway before she stepped in, Roy quickly noticing her presence.

"Hey." He greeted her. "I'm going to stick around, in case she wakes up." Thea felt a measure of pride shoot though her at his words. _That_ was the Roy she knew.

"Is it ok if I stick around with you?" She asked, and Roy nodded in response. She knew he was focused on the figure in the bed, almost able to feel the misplaced guilt emanating from him. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "I mean, you helped _save her life_ , Roy." She stressed, rubbing his shoulder gently as she tried to comfort him. "I guess you can't stop being a hero, can you?"

Both turned to look at the sleeping form of Sin, almost lost in the small world of the hospital room…

…until a quiet knock on the door broke the silence.

Turning to face the source of the sound, Thea saw the young man stood in the doorway, one hand one a few inches from the door while the other was hidden behind his back. His dark hair and hazel eyes seemed familiar to her, and with a start, Thea realised that it was the same man from the buy-back, the one who had tried to stop Sin's bleeding and had even managed to follow her into the ambulance after a few quick words with one of the paramedics. He'd changed his clothes since then, wiped away the tears and blood that had coated his face and hands. Still, that look of pain and loss in his eyes was one Thea would recognise in an instant, and one that showed no sign of leaving him anytime soon.

"How's she doing?" He asked, stepping into the room slowly. Despite his slightly hunched posture, Thea could tell he was tall, taller than Roy at any rate. He looked skinny, although that might just have been his loose clothing.

"She's doing good." Roy answered after a second of hesitation. Clearly, he remembered the man too. "Doctor said they got most of the bullet out. Just need to wait now."

The man nodded, looking incredibly relieved, although his eyes didn't change. "I meant to get here sooner, but the police had some questions, and then I had to change and stop for these." The hidden hand rose, and Thea could see the small number of purple flowers, formed into a slightly rushed bouquet. "Y'know, just to lighten the place up a bit." Thea smiled slightly at the thought. The man placed the flowers in the small cup of water that had been left on the bed's table.

"That's better." He smiled, although it still didn't reach his eyes. Thea shared a brief glance with Roy, both mentally debating who should speak first.

"S-sorry," Roy stuttered slightly as he began, "but who are you?" The man looked up at them quickly, as though suddenly remembering the lack of basic familiarity between the three of them.

"Right, yes. Sorry." He apologised. "My name's Aidan. I'm Cindy's…" He hesitated, seemingly unsure of how to define himself, "…brother, I guess describes it."

"You two are siblings?" Thea asked. In truth, it was quite easy to see the two as brother and sister. Aidan's face was a bit thinner, his skin a shade or two darker, but other than that, they did look pretty similar.

"Well, not legally." Aidan explained. "We've been best friends since we were kids, so we're close enough. Although, people used to think she was my sister, the way she followed me around everywhere." His smile, once nostalgic, slowly changed to one of regret. "Guess, she still does, winding up here and all."

"What do you mean?" Thea asked, stepping forwards. "It's not your fault she's here."

"Isn't it?" Aidan asked. "I asked her to come to the buy-back with me, needed some help in getting rid of everything. If she hadn't shown up, then…" He trailed off, looking more and more like he was about to break.

"It should have been me." He whispered, squatting down by Sin's side as he lightly held her hand. "I should have been there to stop it." And Thea could almost feel her heart break.

"It's not your fault." She told him, moving down beside him and placing her hand on his back as a few drops began to leak out of his eyes. "Sin was there because she _wanted_ to be there. She doesn't seem the type to let others tell her what to do." This at least got a small laugh from Aidan.

"She's right." Roy agreed. "The only one to blame is the asshole that shot her." Thea looked up at him, thankful for his input. "He'll get what's coming to him."

"Yeah," Aidan agreed after several deep breaths, "he will." Squeezing Sin's hand, he rose, pausing for a second as he looked out the window.

The buzzing of a phone broke the quiet of the room, and Aidan reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the ringing device. "Excuse me." He apologised to Thea and Roy, before answering the call, moving closer to the window as he did so. "Yeah?" He began, before falling silent as whoever was on the other end spoke. Thea had no idea what was being said, but the effect it was having on Aidan was clear. His empty hand curled into a fist, she could see his jaw tighten in the glass' reflection, and his entire being just seemed to tense up. It was his eyes, however, that held her the most. She could see in his reflection how the pained look that he had displayed since showing up was gone, replaced instead with a white-hot fury that honestly managed to scare her a little. What the hell was he being told?

"I'm on my way." Aidan said, before ending the call and putting the device away. "I'm so sorry," he began turning back to face the room's occupants, "something big just came up at work, they need me there as soon as possible. Do you think you could stay with her until I get back?"

"Sure." Roy said, and Thea nodded in agreement.

"Thank you so much." Aidan said, relieved. "It shouldn't take too long, but still…" He trailed off, but his thoughts were easy to decipher. He didn't want to leave Sin on her own.

"No worries." Thea assured him, getting a small but genuine smile in response. Aidan began to leave, but stopped as he reached the door.

"I never did say thank you." He said, drawing their attention back to him. "If you hadn't called for an ambulance in time, I don't think there'd have been much I could have done for her." He looked between Thea and Roy. "I owe you. Both of you. More than you could possibly imagine."

And with that, he was gone, footsteps moving fast down the hall. Thea moved back towards Sin's bed, the small smiles she had received still playing on her mind.

So distracted by thoughts of the man, and by the girl in the hospital bed, neither she nor Roy noticed the man in the skull mask drop down from the roof just outside the window, looking in for a moment before disappearing down the cable that had been embedded into the wall by an arrow.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Stood in the shadow of the alleyway, Aidan waited alongside Sara as the rumbling noise of the truck engines steadily grew louder as they made their way through the deserted streets of the Glades. These trucks carried the Mayor's latest shipment of weapons, and were headed straight for his position, an opportunity that the masked fighters could not afford to miss. This shipment would lead them straight to the heart of the Mayor's operation in Starling, and both vigilantes were more than ready to ensure his term in office ended tonight.

The call from Sara had done much to shake him out of his grief surrounding Sin's injury. Apparently, the Mayor's attack on the gun buy-back had given the Arrow the opportunity to find out the gang leader's identity. This Xavier Reed had most likely been working with his foster brother, a soldier stationed at some military camp, to bring stolen weapons into the city, arming his men and steadily growing closer and closer to the power he needed to take over, first the rest of the Glades, and then move on to the rest of the city. This shipment would give them exactly what they needed to begin their 'expansion', and Aidan had no doubt that, should the gang get their hands on these guns, blood would run freely as innocents were slaughtered in the fighting, on a far greater scale than seen before. This thought, this glimpse at the terrible future that was looming over the city, only served to bolster Aidan's determination. He could not let such a fate come to pass.

"You ready?" Sara asked as the first truck began to drive by. It was the last one in the convoy that they were waiting for.

"After you." Aidan replied, his hidden mouth turning up into a smile. One that clearly reached his eyes, as Sara's lips formed a smirk in response.

"Here we go." She stated, as the rear of the second truck moved by, and the engine of the final vehicle appeared before them.

Darting from the shadows, and careful to avoid the eyes of the driver, the two ran for the truck. Reaching the side as it continued on its way, the vigilantes forewent the frame of the vehicle to pull themselves up, instead dropping down and rolling under the belly of the metal beast. Aidan felt the vibrations of one of the heavy wheels as he barely avoided getting his skull crushed by it, stopping and lying in the road for a brief second before reaching up, gripping onto the underside of the truck and letting it pull him along. Placing his feet on another sturdy section, he pulled his body up and off the asphalt, dangling beneath the military vehicle as it continued on its way, unaware of its two newest passengers.

It took the convoy another five minutes to reach it destination. Aidan and Sara were almost as still as statues as they held their positions, unwilling to do anything that might compromise them. Aidan's back was close enough to the ground for him to practically feel each individual rise and fall in the road surface, each piece of concrete that stuck up from the smooth surface and dragged through his shirt and skin, while his arms and legs slowly began to feel the strain of being stuck in their uncomfortable position. Still, better to be uncomfortable than riddle with bullets. So, he remained, mute as he slowly began to dip towards the road.

Eventually, the trucks came to a halt. The vigilantes waited for the noise of men moving about to rise, the cabin passengers passing around the vehicle, before they dropped to the ground and rolled out on the empty side of the trucks, using the sound to mask their movements. Rising to their feet, Aidan stretched his arms, ridding them of their previous stiffness.

"Wait for my signal before doing anything." Sara whispered, before moving to the rear of the truck. Aidan turned to approach the front, darting between the gap from the last vehicle and the next, before crouching behind the engine bay as he heard the Mayor greet his traitor brother. Peering around the front of the vehicle, he saw the two pull apart from a hug.

"You're done being all you can be." The Mayor said with a laugh, although Aidan's focus was partially drawn away from the man's words by the sight of two unmoving legs in the back of the lead truck. Judging by the military camo pants, he could guess that the body belonged to one of those not on board with the whole 'hand over weapons to criminals' plan, and he felt his desire to hit something grow. This Ezra Barnes was not only a traitor, but a murderer to boot. Just his lucky day.

Holding out his hand, Ezra waited as one of the other soldiers pressed a weapon into it, before unfolding the stock and presenting it to his foster brother. Even though his line of sight wasn't completely clear, Aidan knew what it was, thanks to the Arrow's rushed briefing. The convoy was carrying a large number of SCAR 16s, complete with grenade launcher attachments. Just what was needed to bring World War Three to the streets of Starling.

The Mayor's face was like a child that had just found out all his Christmases were happening at once. "Ahh. You and I are gonna own this town." He told his brother with a grin, before hefting the gun. "Now let's see what this bad boy can do."

A sound from further back grabbed everyone's attention, and Aidan didn't need to see to know that Sara was done waiting for a fight. He could practically hear her bo staff swinging through the air as the first hits of the fight were traded, and he jumped up from where he was, pulling himself on to the roof of the truck cabin and launching himself at the nearest hapless soldier. He had some steam that needed blowing off, and anyway, he wasn't going to let Sara have all the fun.

If this had been when he had first started out, Aidan might have found things a bit tougher. In all likelihood, for every few hits he gave out, he almost certainly would have taken another in return. The self-defence classes he took as a kid worked up to a point, but that hadn't exactly made him a master. But now, after his months of training with Sara, it was like carving through warm butter with a chainsaw. His attacks coming from both above and behind no doubt helped, as the combined gang members and soldiers were already distracted by the blonde whirlwind of chaos that Sara had a habit of turning into. As it was, he had already dropped two soldiers and a thug before any could mount a proper attack, which was where the real fight began.

Slamming both batons into the back of a hunched over gangbanger, Aidan was forced to twist his head to the side in order to avoid the vicious right hook a solder threw at him. He was too late to fully dodge it, the fist glancing off his jaw in a way he was sure would leave a nasty bruise, but it was enough to send his attacker stumbling, fist missing the fleshy target it needed to slow down. Spinning around the soldier, Aidan planted his boot in the man's back, sending him flying into the range of Sara's staff even as she tripped a gang member over to him, stumbling to find his feet. Aidan didn't even need his baton to deal with this, simply stretching out his arm and allowing the hapless thug to clothesline himself, although a quick whack to the temple ensured he wouldn't be getting back up. Under the mask, his mouth twisted into a wide smile. He wasn't sure if it was Sara's presence, or the payback he was getting in Sin's name, but Aidan couldn't remember when he'd ever enjoyed a fight more.

The familiar sound of whistling air caught his attention, and he turned in time to see the Arrow drop down from his perch above the meeting. The green-hooded man had wasted no time in unleashing a barrage of arrows on the crows below him. Aidan could see a number of collapsed men, arrows sticking out of them as they moaned in pain. Two were right behind him, clearly only seconds away from trying to catch him off his guard. Good to see that their partnership wasn't just one of information exchange.

The archer's appearance brought with it the renewal of gunfire, although the gunner in question was firing blind, clearly hoping to simply get lucky. Leaving Sara to take care of the stragglers, Aidan nimbly flipped his baton over and hurled it at the gun-wielding tug, who was still focused on the Arrow even as he dropped down behind one of the trucks. The metal rod flew true, spinning through the air and the tip slamming into the back of the man's head. It wasn't hard enough to knock him out, but certainly managed to disorientate him, just as the Arrow came around the corner of the truck. The vigilante grabbed the man and slammed his bow into the thug in three quick strikes before dropping him. As he did so, the archer noticed Aidan's weapon and lowered the edge of his bow to it, sending it spinning back through the air towards the skull-faced man with a sharp flick. Wrapping his fingers around the baton as it whizzed by his face, Aidan nodded to the green-hooded man as he returned the weapon to its home, before turning to check on Sara. The hired muscle was down, the blonde quickly finishing off the final man before looking up.

"Behind you." She said. Both Aidan and the Arrow turned to see Xavier standing not too far away, the SCAR still in his hands. Aidan groaned quietly. Why couldn't these idiots just give up?

"Old school weapons." He called out, predominantly to the archer. "Respect. But can your arrows do this?" He asked, before firing off a grenade. The Arrow reacted at an almost superhuman speed, drawing an arrow and firing. The two projectiles met in mid-air, the arrow hitting and detonating the grenade. Aidan was granted only a split second to admire the accuracy of the shot, before the explosion's shockwave sent him flying. As he tumbled through the air, he could already tell that he was in for a rough landing. He wasn't wrong.

His head hit the ground before the rest of him did, the starts that blossomed behind his eyes and the shattering pain being the only indications that he hadn't been knocked unconscious. He rolled along the road for a second, the world spinning even after he had stopped moving. Shaking his head, Aidan's world tilted in an almost nauseating fashion as he tried to fight off both the sudden sense of vertigo and the lancing sensations through his head from where his skull had smashed into the concrete. After a few shaky attempts, he stopped moving, deeming it better to let his vision settle before attempting anything sudden.

Besides, from what he could make out as he fought to keep his eyes open, it didn't look like he was especially needed at the moment.

As the world slowly stopped swirling around him, coming more into focus with every passing minute, Aidan watched as the Arrow, recovering quickly from his own fall, took on the rest of the gang members, using Sara's staff like an expert, the metal pole twirling back and forth as thug after thug was quickly, and mercilessly, dropped to the ground. As the last man hit the concrete, Aidan saw movement behind the green-clad archer. The Mayor's brother, the traitorous soldier, had come out from behind one of the trucks, weapon in hand and levelled right at the hood wearing vigilante.

"Look out!" He shouted, attempting to rise once more but only getting to his knees. The Arrow turned just in time to see Ezra raise his gun to fire-

Only to be dropped by an arrow between the shoulder blades, courtesy of one Sara Lance.

Aidan grinned at the sight of his friend, and watched as the two vigilantes walked up to each other, wasting little time in switching back to their preferred weapons. This was the Sara Lance he was used to, unshakeable and the master of whatever she put her mind to. Although, as her eyes moved to meet his, some of that stoic front fell away as a look of slight panic bloomed on her face.

"Ai-Damocles!" She called, correcting herself quickly as she moved over to help him. Aidan groaned as he rose to his full height, the world spinning again as a fresh wave of dizziness washed over him. "Are you alright? How bad is it?" Sara asked in rapid succession, eyes flitting over him as she searched for injury.

"I'm fine." He reassured the blonde, swaying slightly on his feet as he fought to keep his legs from collapsing under him. "Just a bit dizzy." He slowly took his hands off of their place on Sara's shoulders, feeling the life return to his body. As the world finally came to a stop, he nodded to both vigilantes, and the three moved off, the Arrow circling one side of the truck while Sara and Aidan took the other side. They had a gang leader to catch.

The Mayor was sneaking around, rifle in hand as he looked for the vigilantes. Aidan could hear him mutter something under his breath, although the words were lost to him, and he watched as Sara moved up behind the crime lord, as silent as a shadow. By the time the Mayor turned around, it was already too late.

The Canary was on him.

Aidan wasn't in any rush as he moved closer, content to watch Sara go about her work. The woman was vicious, yet methodical, belting the Mayor hard twice, quickly sending the man to his knees. Bringing her staff up under his chin, Sara proceeded to choke the man as she obviously prepared to break his neck.

"You hurt a friend of mine." She hissed, and Aidan was hesitant about what to do next. On the one hand, he knew that Sin would never want their blonde sister to kill for her. Beat up, maim, sure, but _kill?_ Not likely. However, a growing part of his mind told him that the Mayor had already killed dozens of people, further destroyed the lives of hundreds more, and allowed his men to massacre the innocent, all as part of a plan to rule the Glades and kill any in his way. For such a man with a clearly absent moral compass, it seemed only fair to pay him back in kind for everything he had dished out.

"Let him go."

Aidan's thoughts, and the decision being tossed about by them, ground to a halt as he looked around to see the Arrow standing before Sara.

"You can't save a city with forgiveness." Sara told the hooded figure harshly.

"You don't have to forgive him." The archer replied. "But you do have to let him live."

Sara looked at the man, then turned to Aidan. Slowly, he nodded in agreement with the Arrow, feeling disappointed with his indecision. As much as he would love to see the Mayor taken care of forever, he acknowledged that this was not the way. Besides, death was probably too lenient a punishment anyway.

Seeing her friend's reaction, Sara finally relented, easing her grip on the staff and letting her prisoner greedily suck at the air he so desperately needed.

"Bitch." Xavier gasped. "I knew you didn't have it in you."

Aidan winced at the words. "You really shouldn't have said that." He lamented the Mayor's action. But by then, he was pretty sure the man already regretted it.

At the insult, Sara quickly jerked the staff back hard, crushing the Mayor's throat, before lifting the staff away and kicking the man hard in the small of the back, sending the man crashing to the ground in an unconscious heap.

"I really don't like that word." She said. Aidan could sense the look being directed at his friend by the Arrow, but he couldn't really care about the pair's interaction. His gaze was focused on the downed man by his feet, and the sense of relief and joy he felt at the sight.

The people of the Glades could, for the first time in months, walk the streets without fear of thugs wielding stolen army weapons. The Mayor was out of office, and the city itself was just that little bit safer.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The first thing she heard when she finally woke up was an insistent _beep-beep-beep_ , right next to her head. It was very annoying.

Once her mind had finally shaken off the fog of sleep, Sin let her eyes wander around her surroundings. She was in a hospital room, laid out on a bed with a handful of tubes attached to her. The beeping sound was from a heart rate monitor she was hooked up to, and there was a doctor standing beside her, looking down with kind eyes.

"Awake, are you?" He asked pleasantly. "You had us worried for a second." Sin tried to move, but the doctor rested a hand against her shoulder. "No sudden movements, please." He told her. "As good as our work is, it would be a shame to see it come undone." Accepting her fate, Sin waited patiently as the doctor very slowly helped her sit up.

As she moved, Sin could feel a pain in her stomach, and suddenly the memories of what had happened came racing back to her. The buy-back, the Mayor showing up, running for cover as the firefight began, the pain of being hit and her world darkening as Aidan looked down on her, begging her to stay awake.

"The bullet penetrated your anterior abdomen." The doctor explained, misinterpreting the look of pain on his patient's face. "We managed to remove most of the pieces, but even so, I'd like to keep you in for a few more days to make certain of a proper recovery." Sin just nodded. While she wasn't a fan of hospitals, it still beat the risk of ripping open her stomach again.

"There's a Mister Harper outside, if you'd like to see him." The doctor continued, catching her attention. "He's been here ever since you came out of surgery." Another nod, and the doctor smiled, before turning and walking out of the room.

Sin could hear the doctor talking outside, along with a worried voice that belonged to Roy 'Abercrombie' Harper. Thinking through the events of the past day or so, she found herself grudgingly having to accept the inevitable truth. Harper had played a not-so-small role in keeping her among the living. She owed him for that, and, given what she knew about him, there was really only one way she could honour the unofficial deal that existed between the two of them now.

As she reached her annoying conclusion, she could hear the rapid scuffle of feet as someone ran to the room, before Roy appeared in the doorway, a look of mixed panic and, upon seeing her, relief on his face.

"Hey." She said to him as she moved in further, taking a seat next to her bed. "You saved my life. I guess I have to keep your secret now, huh?" Raising her eyes, Sin saw Thea Queen walk in. "You know you're friends with a moron, right?" She told the rich girl, feeling slightly bad for how she'd previously treated the girl. She'd waited for her to wake up alongside Roy, she got on with him in the first place, for some reason. She couldn't be _all_ bad.

Thea gave her a small grin in response. "It's my first and last thought of every day." She replied, and Sin knew it. This girl was alright.

"Crap." Sin moaned, looking back to Roy. "I like her." The three chuckled, Sin's wakeup seeming to shake away whatever shadows had grown over the small room.

Still, Sin thought, looking between the two people who had stayed with her since her injury, there was still something missing…

"Aw, what a lovely sight." A very familiar voice said from the doorway, and Sin couldn't help the almost ludicrously sized smile that blossomed on her face as she saw Aidan leaning against the frame, delight glittering in his eyes as he looked at her. "Brings a tear to my eye, it does. Although, you couldn't have waited for me?"

"Oh, I'm _so sorry_." Sin snarked back. "I was so _inconsiderate_ , you big cry baby. Please forgive me." Aidan just grinned, moving around to sit on her other side.

"I'm glad you're ok, little sis." He told her, squeezing her hand and twisting his fingers in hers.

"Oh my God, are you alright?" Thea suddenly exclaimed, and Sin instantly took notice of the purple bruises that decorated one side of Aidan's jaw, along with the bandage wrapped around his forehead. What the hell had he been doing while she was out?

"I'm fine, don't worry." He replied, shooting Thea a reassuring smile that, while not completely successful, did calm her down a fair bit. "Slipped and banged my head, nothing major." Sin made a quick note of the looks being shared between the two, storing the info away for later. Should prove interesting material. Roy just looked envious at the speed at which Thea was calmed. Sin guessed that he had never been so successful before.

The four of them talked for another ten minutes or so, on inane subjects that didn't matter, but none of them seemed to care. Sin almost lost count of the number of looks sent by Aidan and Thea towards the other, although neither seemed to notice. _She_ certainly wasn't going to say anything. It was far too much fun to watch. Eventually, however, Roy and Thea decided it was time to leave, both headed for the door.

"Just wondering," Thea stopped, turning back for a second, "would you guys maybe like to hang out sometime? I could give you my number, if you want." Sin couldn't help but notice at how the words were directed more to Aidan than to her.

"Y-yeah, sure." Aidan agreed, fishing his phone out and trading numbers with Thea. Sin could have laughed at the two, moving closer together without seemingly meaning to, or even realising it.

"See you around." Thea said once they had done, smiling once more before leaving with Roy, still waiting in the hall. Aidan watched her go for a moment, Sin counting at least four seconds of silence before he turned back.

"So," Sin drawled, catching her friend's attention, "you two seemed pretty friendly."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Aidan denied almost instantly, only adding wood to Sin's fire.

"Oh, come on!" She exclaimed. "I haven't seen you like this in years! Besides, she's _single…_ " She sang the last part. Aidan looked at her, almost seeming to be considering it for a moment, before sticking his hand out and mussing up her hair.

"Shut up, you." He laughed, as Sin desperately tried to rid herself of his playful fingers.

"What have I told you about the hair!"

"Oh, suck it up."

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 **And there we go, Chapter 4! This really was a pain to write, simply finding the time, so I hope you enjoy, and pardon the lateness!**

 **Oh, and don't hesitate to review. Seriously, I love reading them, and they seriously help me keep going.**

 **Until next time,**

 **TimeFury1347**


	5. League of Assassins

The club was loud. _Really_ loud.

Aidan forced himself past yet another person who seemed to be grinding against an invisible pole in time to the music blaring from the speakers dotted around, and was forced to blink rapidly as one of the strobe lights above him shone directly in his eyes, the world turning a slightly garish shade of blue before reverting back to the low-light interior of Verdant. His nostrils were filled with the stench of perfume and alcohol, and he was well into the double digits to count how many tipsy girls he had been forced to pull off him. For some reason, they were all fascinated by his battered jacket and shirt, or rather what they covered, although Aidan was pretty sure they might change their minds when they saw what the material concealed, the memories of a thousand battles. He let out a low groan of anguish as he barely avoided taking a flailing hand to the face, courtesy of someone who seemed to be having a heart attack on the dance floor. Why had he agreed to this?

In fairness, he only had himself to blame. Sin had been released from the hospital about a week ago, with the express order to avoid doing anything too strenuous unless she wanted to end up right back where she started, and since then Thea had gone to a lot of work to keep an eye on her. This had been easily accomplished by calling Aidan up at least twice a day, a practise that had extended to Sin once the Queen heiress' number had been passed on. These conversations had been a mix of check-up and small talk, as Thea apparently sought to become more acquainted with her new friends. Their talks, which Aidan had quickly begun to look forward to, usually ended with the desire for the four of them to get together, although this had so far only come to fruition in the form of a lunch at the nearest Big Belly Burger the day previously. Clearly emboldened by the success, Thea had been quick to insist that Aidan and Sin meet up with her and Roy at Verdant the next evening, a plan that both had been powerless to decline. There was just something about the young Queen, an energy that seemed to almost infect those closest to her. Aidan was certain that it was hiding something, but was careful not to pry. The poor girl's mother was in prison, with many in the Glades and beyond calling for her head on a platter. And, regardless of his own opinion on the matter, Aidan refused to darken the ray of light that Thea was working so hard to bring into her life. He had found himself unable to say no to her request, despite the nagging feeling at the back of his mind.

Which led to his current predicament, fighting his way through the party goers in an effort to reach Sin and the others, waiting for him at the _quiet end_ of the bar according to Sin's text, while he was fifteen minutes late. With the same nagging feeling telling him to just turn around now.

He did have a valid reason for his tardiness, although not one he'd be able to admit to. Crime in the Glades had seen a spike over the last few days, in the wake of the Mayor's arrest. A few rival gangs had decided to try and take over both the freshly vacated territory and the handful of abandoned gun caches that were dotted around old safe houses, with these newly armed thugs proving to be a giant pain in Aidan's neck as he hunted them down. But, the biggest surge came from the Mayor's thugs that had failed to go down with their boss. Some were looking to make names for themselves, others were simply looking to cash in on the fresh wave of chaos before skipping town. The vast majority weren't exactly challenging foes, since the ones packing heat were few and far between, while the rest had the same level of resistance as a fractured window against a sledgehammer. Still, as weak as they were, they had the advantage of being numerous enough to be spread out across the Glades and a handful of other districts, only serving to further irritate the vigilante. To the extent that he had often allowed himself to get sucked in o the seemingly endless chase simply to alleviate the growing headache these idiots were giving him at their moronic refusal to just give up quietly. But no, they always had to make a break for it, making _his_ job that much more monotonous.

But, regardless of how his night job had caused him to lose track of time, no matter how satisfying it might have been to let out some aggression on over-confident thugs, there was something else. Something more primal that had made the task of simply forgetting far easier for his mind to carry out.

For a large part of his life, Aidan had been on his own. His mother had always been a comforting presence, but, aside from her, it was like an invisible wall had been put up around him. He'd never really had any friends growing up, preferring his own company and being seen as a bit of a weirdo by the other kids. Besides, even if he _had_ wanted companionship from someone his own age, his father had always been more than willing to keep him isolated, scaring off any who came too close. The man had never been particularly nice, especially when he was into his drink, and things had only gone downhill as the years went by. Still, he had been able to teach his son at one valuable lesson, one that Aidan had discovered at the ripe old age of seven, and had been quick to take to heart. Rely only on yourself, don't trust anyone else as they're more likely to use you for the for their own goals than they are to actually care about you as a person. The only time he had swerved from this in a period of almost twelve years was when he had met Sin. The girl had managed to quickly and firmly entrench herself in his heart, and Aidan knew he wouldn't be able to push her out if he tried. It was the two of them against the world, particularly in their 'less-than-legal' line of work, which really was a case of everyone looking to either exploit them or end them. He had his little sister, and most of the time he had his mother, he didn't need anyone else. And then, when he had been gifted with another sister…

Aidan forced away the bad memories that the thought brought up, but his mind refused to let go of the facts. Alone had protected him, had built up walls to stop him from being used by those who would have seen him as merely a tool or stepping stone to their own goals. And, as horrible as the recollections were, it had been proved how trying to break down these walls had only led to disaster. Since meeting Sin, Aidan had allowed himself to open up to others on less than a handful of occasions. Two had crashed and burned in the chaos of the Undertaking, and only his connection to Sara had stayed firm. After everything he had gone through, everything he had lost, he wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to throw himself back into the ring for another chance.

As these thoughts flitted through his mind, Aidan finally managed to free himself of the throng of bodies and catch sight of the bar. And there they were, waiting for him. Sin and Roy were leaning against the counter top, while Thea stood behind it, getting the group drinks from a very fancy-looking bottle. As she looked up, her eyes caught his, and Aidan felt the same feeling he had gotten at the hospital run through him as she smiled, quickly blowing away the doubt in his mind.

One night couldn't hurt, right?

"About time!" Thea called out over the music, passing Aidan a drink. "We were beginning to think you wouldn't show."

"Speak for yourself, Queenie." Sin retorted, her usual sarcastic smirk on her face. "I told you, free booze ain't something this guy's gonna turn down." Aidan laughed.

"What can I say?" He defended himself, downing the alcohol in one and running his eyes over the label on the bottle. "I love me some good scotch."

"Fair enough." Thea conceded, refilling Aidan's glass before raising her own. "To having a good night with my friends." The four clinked before drinking.

"To not being able to hear myself think." Aidan countered, smiling as the unease he'd felt on arrival finally slip away. He couldn't remember when he'd last had a chance to properly relax. He was going to enjoy tonight, at least.

Hanging out had proved to be pretty fun. The foursome had vacated their spot at the bar in favour of a table up on the second floor, once it became clear that the music, despite Thea's efforts as General Manager, wasn't turning down for anybody. At least their new position allowed for some level of talk away from the deafening noise, if only slightly, although they still fond that they needed to raise their voices a fair bit to properly be heard. The evening seemed to be about who could tell the most embarrassing stories, with Aidan and Roy joining forces against Sin and Thea. The airing of Aidan's dirty laundry, although Sin was merciful enough to leave out some of the bigger moments, was enough to make him respond in kind, and the same went for Thea after Roy let slip some tales that he'd apparently been told but one of the Queen Mansion's house staff, a woman named Raisa according the Roy, when he'd gone to pick Thea up for a date but the girl had been running a bit behind. The continuous back and forth of mistakes and humiliating moments had the four of them close to tears in no time, forgetting the troubles of the city outside in favour of just being normal people.

Aidan chuckled as Thea recounted Roy's paranoia of needles when they visited the hospital after he'd gotten himself hurt, taking a small sip of his drink. Despite his desire to relax, his body refused to let itself go overboard, the slight buzzing between his eyes being deemed sufficient as he regulated how much he drank. Still, he didn't give it too much thought. He didn't want to risk getting _too_ loose tongued, and besides, having some control over his mental faculties would prove useful should anything pop up to break the friendly vibe that had fallen over the table, or at least assist in navigating his way home.

Although, considering what came next, Aidan wasn't sure whether to be pleased of his planning, or kick himself for jinxing the moment.

Just as he was about to recount the legendary battle between an 8-year-old Sin and the cuddly toy he'd gotten her for her birthday, Aidan was interrupted as he felt someone stop beside him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Looking up, he saw that a man had stopped in front of the table. He was swaying slightly on his feet, and Aidan guessed that he may have had one too many drinks. The drunk was a little taller than him, and had the body mass of someone married to their gym membership. However, the most blaringly obvious feature of the man was the leering looks he was sending to both Sin and Thea, looks that served to quickly raise the vigilante's hackles.

"Hey ladies," the man slurred, ignoring Aidan and Roy as he focused on the two women, or rather, on what he could see through their clothes, "you looking for a good time?" Aidan rolled his eyes at the cheesy line. Where did he get that one from, _Grease_?

"Nah, I think we're good here." Thea shot back almost instantly, her response getting a smirk out of Sin and a grin from Aidan. He had quickly learnt how the billionaire girl had a tongue sharp enough to rival Sin's, something that only endeared her to Aidan more, despite his best efforts.

The drunk only snorted in response. "Seriously? With these stiffs?" He asked incredulously, swatting Aidan's shoulder as though he were a fly. Aidan fought to control his rising anger, fists clenching tight beneath the table. "Why don't I show you how a _real man_ has fun?"

"She told you to get lost." Roy spoke up, the same anger written on his face. "They're not interested in you, and I don't blame 'em."

"What you gonna do about it, shrimp?" The man jeered contemptuously, before a cruel grin spilled over his features. "Don't worry, you can have them back when I'm done. If they want to _go back_ , that is." He smirked smugly at Roy, before staring without even a shred of shame at Thea's chest.

At this, Aidan couldn't hold his anger back anymore. Pushing his drink away, he slowly rose to his feet, ignoring Sin's light tugging on his arm to try and deter him. While the drunk was taller than him, he seemed to shrink slightly at the look of pure ice in Aidan's eyes.

"She said." He slowly stated, before lashing his arms forward and shoving firmly against the man. "Back. Off." The drunk stumbled back a few steps, before moving forward again, fist clenched. And Aidan knew that a peaceful conclusion, if one had ever been possible, was now out of the picture.

The punch could not have been more choreographed. Aidan saw it coming before the man even raised his fist, but did nothing, allowing the blow to slam into his nose and cheek. As much as he wanted to simply lay the guy out, he still had an image to maintain, that of a slightly intoxicated guy who hadn't been training his senses and reflexes for just under a decade. And as such, he had to take a few hits. The blow, despite his attacker's drunkenness, was a solid one, and Aidan felt pain flare up in his nose as his head whipped to the side, warm blood leaking down to and over his lip. Still, he didn't react, feeling the hurt only for a moment before swiftly locking it away.

"Why don't you piss off, you little turd!" The drunk spat, tensing his muscles as he tried, and failed, to make himself look more intimidating. "Maybe that way I'll let you keep some of your teeth."

Rolling his head back around, Aidan gave a short laugh in response before his own fist rocketed forward, slamming into the man's gut. The fight was on.

The drunk was big, and the upper level of the club pretty confined, but still, Aidan was able to practically dance around his opponent. It was surprisingly easy to keep up his tipsy persona, stumbling slightly as he dodged the heavy fists directed at his ribs, allowing the man to thud against the far wall as Aidan himself quickly moved back to the table.

"You guys might want to move." He told the trio, who were more than happy to comply. Aidan pushed himself off, using his body to partially spin the drunk as he approached, putting him off balance and giving Sin, Roy and Thea more time to get free. Unfortunately, it still wasn't enough.

"Where you going, bitch?" The drunk snarled, his previous _charming_ persona gone as he grabbed Thea's wrist as she tried to get out of range, tugging hard and brining her down to the floor. "I'm not done with you yet."

At Thea's pained cry as she hit the floor, Aidan saw red. This idiot was going to hurt his friend. Letting go of his slightly drunk act, he surged forward, gripping the man's wrist and twisting, the satisfying _crunch_ of bone breaking accompanying it moments later. His knee lanced up between the man's legs in the same instant, and he screamed, rocking his forehead into Aidan's face as he tried to defend himself. Aidan barely even felt the hit as he simply copied the action, headbutting the man hard and releasing him, watching as his foe fell back onto the table. Taking the few necessary steps forward, Aidan picked up one of the glasses on the table and slammed it against the drunk's head, stopping the sluggish movements as the glass shattered, blood welling up from where the shards had cut into the skin.

Satisfied, Aidan stepped back, admiring his handiwork. A broken wrist, bruised balls and head trauma, all ensuring that his latest punching bag wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

Turning, his eyes latched onto Thea, rising to her feet as Roy helped her up. Sin stood just behind, a very pleased look on her face as she watched him.

"Are you alright?" He asked, stepping closer. Thea nodded, though her eyes widened when looking at him.

"Am I alright?" She asked incredulously. "You're the one with blood leaking out of your face." Aidan frowned before raising his hand to check. There _was_ blood on his face, quite a substantial amount, and, given how his nose throbbed and his lip smarted now the adrenaline had worn off, he could only assume that the drunk had done a bit more damage than he'd anticipated.

"Oh." He said simply, something that Sin clearly found amusing.

"Come on Rocky," she told him, stepping forward and gripping his arm, "let's go get you patched up."

It took all of five minutes before Aidan was seated in Thea's office overlooking the club, trying not to grimace as Sin bent his nose back into place. Although the vast majority of the club's occupants had remained oblivious to the scuffle, one had noticed and called for security. The drunk had been dragged out of the building, to be dumped on the street or taken to hospital Aidan didn't care, and Thea had quacking ushered the four of them into her office, escaping at least some of the noise.

"I was able to find these." Thea said as she approached, holding a few painkillers and a glass of water, both of which Aidan very quickly swallowed down with a quick thanks. "Why do all the guys I know have to be so… aggressive?"

"Because things would be boring otherwise?" Aidan suggested, getting a laugh from Roy who sat behind the desk. Thea only smiled.

"Still, thank you, by the way." She told him. "That guy was an ass." Sin hummed in agreement as she handed Aidan a fresh tissue.

"Don't worry about it." He assured her. "He was just looking for someone to beat some sense into him. Besides, there's no way I'd let anyone talk to a lady like that." Thea smiled in thanks.

"Well, I'm gonna get some more drinks." Roy announced, striding towards the door. "You mind giving me a hand?"

"Be right back." Thea told Aidan and Sin before following Roy out, the noise of the club rising before being blocked off by the door again.

"You good, Romeo?" Sin asked, a smirk playing on her face. Aidan looked at her in confusion. "'Talk to a lady like that'? Very smooth." Sin laughed. "What's next, a serenade by the moonlight?"

"Oh, grow up." Aidan glared at his friend, shaking his fist at her for a second before the two dissolved into laughter, enjoying the relative quiet of the office as the two waited for their friends to get back.

Aidan jerked up slightly at the thought. Friends? When had he started calling them that? Looking back, he recalled how he had thought when Thea was knocked to the ground, and he groaned mentally. After all the effort he'd put into at least trying to maintain some kind of distance, he'd gone and wrecked it all in one go.

Still, despite his irritation, Aidan found it hard to truly regret the change. His chest felt light, and a feeling of relief and satisfaction was playing at the back of his mind, one that had been growing almost from the second the fight had ended. He'd only felt such a feeling when he'd defended Sin or Charley growing up, and, as it had so many times before, it felt pretty good. The feeling of helping out a friend, some close to him, it was one that never got old.

Yeah, he had to admit as the door began to open again, maybe having friends wasn't as bad as it sounded.

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Iron Heights Penitentiary had not been built to be a nice place. It was a prison, holding some of the worst people imaginable. In fact, to call some of the inmates 'people' was a falsehood, as it seemed that only monsters could be capable of doing some of what a few of prisoners were in for. 'Monster' would probably be a better description. This place had been built to hold monsters, and, until half a year ago, it had been carrying out its role perfectly.

But then came the Undertaking. And it seemed like more needed to be done to keep the monsters in their cages.

Thea let her eyes roam around the hallway as she was led by one of the prison guards to where the meeting would be held. She had gotten a call a few days ago from Jean, about a meeting concerning Moira's upcoming trial. At the words, Thea had allowed herself to hope a little, thinking that maybe something had been discovered that would shift the blame off of her mother's shoulders. But then, her realistic side had taken back hold. Most likely, whoever was prosecuting was just trying to give Moira one last chance to withdraw from the case. Maybe with the sweetener of life imprisonment should she plead guilty. A tempting offer, considering that, if found guilty, the court would more than likely impose the death penalty, but Thea refused to think like that. She didn't care what it took, she would get her mother out of prison, away from everything that could hurt her and everyone that wanted to string her up. She _had_ to.

Her thoughts were interrupted for a moment as a yawn forced its way out of her mouth, accompanied swiftly by a wave of tiredness, one strong enough to make her wish she had made time for more coffee, or that she had at least woken up early enough to not sacrifice at least something to properly shake away the effects of the previous night besides the small breakfast she had managed to force down.

After Aidan's fight with the drunk customer, although it had been a bit too one-sided for that to be a proper definition, the quartet had sequestered themselves in her office for the rest of the evening, away from any chance of interruption aside from the muted music forcing its way through the glass. And, after Aidan had been patched up and more drinks found, things had quickly returned to their previous level of fun, the laughter almost infectious between the newly formed group of friends.

Things had gotten quieter as the night went on, first with Verdant emptying and closing, and then when several of their party had slowly succumbed to sleep, thanks in no small part to the alcohol. Roy had gone first, slumping over the desk with his head on his crossed arms, while Sin had quickly followed. Thea could remember the downright adorable sight of the sharp-tongued girl, curling up against Aidan with her head in his lap, one of the man's arms wrapped around her. Despite half the group having passed out, however, Thea and Aidan had not been in any hurry to end the night, trading questions and the occasional joke in hushed voices, careful not to rouse their friends as they learnt more about the other. Nothing major as of yet, although she had been surprised to hear about the slightly older man owning his own bar, one far less centred on the party scene that Verdant was famous for. Eventually, however, all good things had to come to an end, Thea waking Roy up to head back to his place where she was staying for the night, while Aidan simply picked Sin up, the small girl seemingly weighing nothing as the group parted ways for the night, although Thea had only managed to grasp a few hours of sleep before her alarm had woken her, bleary eyed and despising the sharp trill that emanated from her phone, far too close to her head.

Shaking away her exhaustion, she smiled slightly at the memories of the previous night. While it hadn't exactly gone completely smoothly, it had definitely been a lot of fun. She had had the chance to hang out with her friends, to forget the upcoming trial for at least a few precious hours. Although, while had been enjoyable, she did wish that her chest would have stopped feeling light when Aidan smiled at her. While not an unpleasant sensation, she was a grown woman, for crying out loud, not some confused teenager. She had the club to take care of, her mother's case to worry about. She didn't have time to feel like this. The day she had her mother out of prison and away from the danger of the trial… well, considering she hadn't felt this way since meeting Roy, she'd be hard-pressed to say that she wasn't curious to see what would happen this time.

She was pulled back to reality as the guard ahead of her stopped, opening the door to where the meeting would be taking place. Giving the man a quick thanks, Thea passed through, looking around. The room was rather dark, with a window and low lights providing some illumination. A table sat in the centre, with two chairs on one side and three on the other. And there, talking with Jean as they waited, was her mother, dressed in her drab grey prison uniform.

"Mom." Thea called, stepping further into the room as a smile lit across her face. Her mother turned at the call, an almost identical smile gracing her features as she stepped forward, pulling her daughter into a tight hug, one Thea returned eagerly. Even when she had refused to visit her for the five months after the Undertaking, right up to the day following her kidnapping, she had still missed these moments of intimacy. These were times she wouldn't trade for anything, and would never get tired of having.

"Oh sweetheart." Her mother said, stroking the back of Thea's head lightly before pulling away. "Thank you for coming."

"Of course I came." Thea responded. "I'm just sorry I haven't been to see you for a while." And it had been a while. Definitely not since the gun buy-back, maybe a little before. With everything that had been happening, she had somehow managed to forget, a thought that twisted her stomach painfully, especially when reminded of their fairly limited time.

"Don't worry about that, Thea." The Queen matriarch pushed aside the guilt in her daughter's words, holding her shoulders for a moment as the older woman stared into the younger's face. Thea couldn't shake the feeling that her mother was giving her the once over, as she had so many times when the Queen heiress had come home late from a party and typically drunk, the look even possessing the small wrinkle between the eyebrows. "You look exhausted. What on earth have you been doing?"

"Just hanging out with some friends last night." Thea explained. "We might've overdone it a bit."

"You don't say." Her mother replied sarcastically. "And how is Mr Harper, by the way?" Upon seeing the look in Thea's eyes, she laughed slightly. "From the way you've talked of him, you two have practically been joined at the hip."

"He's fine." Thea replied, hesitating slightly as she continued. "We broke up, actually."

"Really?" The elder Queen asked, sounding surprised, although Thea couldn't imagine why. As far as she was aware, the two had never actually met.

"Yeah, but it's fine." Thea continued. "We're still friends, nothing bitter." Her mother nodded, satisfied with her daughter's explanation. "It was me, him, and some friends I made last week." She finished, causing Moira's eyebrow to arch, partly because of the anticipation of the upcoming question, and the newest family revelation from outside Iron Heights.

"Oh?" She asked. "And who are these new friends of yours?" Thea waited a moment before answering, letting her mother pull her towards the table and sit the pair of them down. Jean was going through her bag, ignoring the two other women.

"There's Sin, she got hurt in the shootout at the buy-back and we called an ambulance, and her kind of-brother, Aidan." Once again, the strange lightness filled her chest, and Moira watched her with an amused look.

"And I take it you are rather… enamoured with this Aidan?" Moira asked, bringing an abrupt halt to whatever Thea was about to say. Her mother chuckled at the reaction of her daughter. "Sweetheart, while I haven't always been the best mother, I am still capable of telling when my daughter is smitten."

"Okay, first of all, who even still says 'smitten'?" Thea asked, trying to hide her blush. "And second, I don't have time for that right now. Let's just get you out of this mess first, alright?"

Her mother's face slowly fell back to the look of sad acceptance that seemed to have become its default lately, the same one Thea had seen practically every time she had visited. "Thea, I-" She began, only to be stopped by the sound of the door opening. In walked Adam Donner, Assistant Defence Attorney, prosecutor in the Queen case, and, in Thea's humble opinion, an all-round douchebag. But he wasn't alone. Thea's eyes widened as Laurel Lance came in behind Donner, something in her eyes telling the room that a large part of her most certainly did not want to be here. What was she _doing here?_

"Good morning, ladies." Donner greeted the three seated at the table, the look on his face enough to make Thea want to strangle him. "I believe you already know Miss Lance."

"Yes, I believe we do." Moira replied snidely. "Although I fail to understand her attendance to this meeting."

"Her role in your case should be answer enough." Donner countered. "Miss Lance will be aiding me in the prosecution."

Thea could practically feel the heat from the fury bubbling inside her. Seriously? After everything the Queens had done for her, all they had been through, _this_ was how Laurel repaid them? Apparently, she wasn't alone in her sentiment.

"This is absurd." Jean protested. "Miss Lance's connection to the Queens…"

"The DA has already approved Miss Lance's role." Donner interrupted, smug smile on his face, and so very punchable in Thea's mind. "And, as soon as Mr Queen shows up, we can continue to the true purpose of this meeting."

Thea only leaned back as the silence fell, content to shoot looks of pure loathing at both figures sat across from her as they waited for Oliver to arrive. With the clear importance of this meeting, he wouldn't be that late.

Several minutes later, however, Thea was seriously doubting her assurances as the silence grew heavy, everyone eager to begin but as of yet unable to.

Finally though, it seemed like one of them had had enough.

"I'm done waiting for Mr Queen." Donner said briskly, shattering the silence with his impatient tone, one that served to raise Thea's eyebrow. After all, hadn't it been this guy who insisted upon waiting for Oliver? Apparently, his opinions swung around faster than a pendulum. "Let's get started."

Just at that moment, Oliver was escorted in. "Sorry I'm late." He apologised. "There's an old friend… in town." He trailed off as he saw Laurel sitting beside Donner, the same confusion Thea had had not too long before clear on his face.

"I was just explaining to your mother and sister that Miss Lance will be sitting second chair for the prosecution." Donner said smugly. Thea's hands twitched in her lap, but she managed to keep them in check. For now.

"This is a conflict of interest." Jean stated brusquely once more. "Miss Lance practically grew up in the Queen house."

"I think you're overstating matters." Donner shot back, far too much confidence in his voice.

"Oh, we'll see when I move to conflict Miss Lance off this case." Jean replied. Out of the corner of her eye, Thea could see her brother staring at Laurel, almost in shock. A glance at the woman in question show how the lawyer couldn't meet the man's eyes.

"Maybe there won't be a case much longer." Donner said, instantly grabbing Thea's attention as he reached into his briefcase. "I come here not just with Miss Lance, but also with a plea offer." He pulled out said offer and slid it across the table. "Life, with the possibility of parole."

"No." Jean shook her head, sliding the document back. "We are not pleading out. Mrs Queen is innocent." The look on scorn on Donner's face told the whole room what he thought.

"She aided and abetted 503 homicides." The ADA said.

"Under duress from a homicidal maniac named Malcolm Merlyn." The Queen lawyer reminded him. "She also withdrew from the criminal conspiracy prior to its execution."

"Five minutes prior." Donner replied sarcastically. "With Malcolm Merlyn dead, a jury's going to want to have to blame someone."

"If she doesn't take the deal, then she's facing the death penalty." Laurel added.

"Sounds a lot like blackmail." Thea spat back, unable to control the anger coursing through her any longer. Her mother's hand pressed against her leg, and Thea sat back, working to reign in her fury with the help of the somehow calm demeanour of the older woman's presence. Didn't mean her anger was wrong, however. Anything that implied 'or else' didn't tend to sit well with Thea, especially not in this context.

"Try reality." Donner said smugly. "And here's some more- we've subpoenaed over a decade's worth of phone messages, phone records, letters and emails. I'm willing to bet I find something that crushes your duress defence to powder."

"Mr Donner, if you don't mind, I'd like a few days to consider your offer." The older Queen said, speaking for the first time since Oliver's arrival.

"Of course." He said with a smile. Grabbing his case, he rose, allowing the guard to open the door.

Laurel wasn't far behind as she quickly gathered her things and stood. "Excuse me." She said quietly, refusing to make eye contact with anyone as she hurried after her boss.

Oliver watched the woman go. "I'll be right back." He told the others, before exiting as well.

Thea sat back in her chair, trying to process what had just happened. She could her Jean speaking to her mother, although the woman in question stayed silent. Everything was beginning to slot into place for the young heiress, as she struggled to find the right words to say. Laurel knew the Queen family, perhaps better than anyone else. And, considering how long she'd been a pseudo-member of the family, Thea was willing to bet that she had stumbled across at least a few secrets, secrets that would no doubt come into the light at the trial.

"We're going to get through this." She told her mother eventually, squeezing the older woman's hand for comfort. Still, no amount of comfort could fill the hollow ring of her words as they echoed around the grey little prison room.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Sara wandered through the halls of the Queen mansion, enjoying the silence as she took in the feel of the house she hadn't seen for six years. She had a few memories of coming here when she was younger, to parties thrown by Ollie the playboy, when she babysat Thea, or to simply hang out, although these times numbered far less. Sara had never had quite the same connection to the Queen family as Laurel had, seeing as how her sister had spent a large portion of her life in this building, running around alongside Oliver and Tommy and eventually dating the former, while Sara, the younger sister, had been forced to wait just that little bit longer before joining in. Which had led to parties, then to Oliver, and the _Gambit_ …

Moving into the foyer of the stately home, Sara circled around the small table in the centre that was decorate by numerous pictures. Letting her eyes play over the images, she smiled at the photo of a younger Oliver, before stopping on another and reaching out, fingers gripping against the frame as she picked it up. It was the _Gambit,_ before its final voyage. Staring at the picture, Sara looked up to the sunlight shining through the windows, as memories slid up to the forefront of her mind…

… _sunlight beating down on her, slowly driving her mad…_

… _water all around her makeshift raft, her tongue as dry as a desert…_

… _a Yellow bird, chirping happily at her despite her pain…_

… _a large steamer ship, looking so beautiful in the empty sea…_

…" _Sara?"…_

She forced the memories back as she returned to the real world. Sara looked up to see Oliver walking in, and she hastily put the picture back in its place.

"You ok?" He asked her.

"How did everything go with your mother?" Sara asked in return, dodging the question as she had so often before.

"I ran into your sister." Oliver told her with a frustrated sigh. "She's working on the case." At the mention of Laurel, a shot of panic raced through her.

"You didn't tell her..." She began, although Oliver clearly knew what was coming.

"No." He assured her with a tight smile. "I know a little something about keeping secrets and respecting them, even though I don't totally understand _why_ you're keeping yours." Sara sighed and turned away, crossing her arms. She knew that Oliver wanted to know what she was hiding, although not nearly as much as he wanted her to tell her family she was alive. But Sara knew she couldn't. After everything that had happened, everything she had done... It was bad enough that she could barely even recognise herself in the mirror. She couldn't bring herself to reveal the stranger she had become to her family, knowing that, if they knew the truth about her, they would never be able to look her in the eye anymore. It was better this way, with her secrets remaining as close to her chest as possible.

She could feel Oliver move around the table, getting closer to her. "Is this- is it because of what happened on the island?" He asked hesitantly.

"No." Sara admitted, turning back to him. After all he had done for her, both now and before, she owed him this much. "After. There were things that I did; things that I had to do to survive." She knew she was being vague in her explanation, but she didn't care. She had given the same speech to Aidan when he had first inquired about the anonymity surrounding her family's awareness, and it would work the same for Oliver. "Things that there's no forgiveness for."

"Well, that's the thing about forgiveness- you can't get it until you ask for it." Oliver told her, and something inside Sara brightened. Even after everything he had been through, there was still some piece of Ollie's old optimism left in him.

And then, the peaceful silence of the room was shattered when, without warning, the window over the front door shattered as a man leapt through it. He landed on the bannister in a crouch, with no sign of any loss of balance, before dropping down to the floor. He rose, a sword in hand, although Sara was more transfixed by the clothing he wore. A uniform, one she had hoped, perhaps naively, to never see again.

Oliver also appeared to be frozen at the man's sudden appearance, although for a rather different reason. "Malcolm?" He said in stunned belief.

The man said nothing, merely surging forward in his attack. He swung his sword at Sara, although she was able to step back before the blade could slice her open. She saw Oliver get in a kick to the back of the man's leg, before he was forced to duck as the sword swung at him, and Sara took that as her signal to jump back in. She moved back, waiting for her time to strike as the two men traded blows at a furious pace, although the masked man was always one step ahead. The two of them were eventually forced to fall back into the sitting room, with Oliver flipping a chair over to slow the attacker down. The man was not deterred, rolling over the obstacle as he continued the pursuit.

Looking around for a weapon, Sara jumped up to yank down a piece of the doorway's solid wood molding. Not the best tool, but it would do for an impromptu staff. Quickly getting used to the long stick, she swung at the attacker, only for the blow to be redirected, shattering a nearby ornament. Recovering quickly, Sara hit the man in the stomach, driving him back a few steps. She tried to follow up with a swing at the head, but missed, leaving herself open. The assassin brought the sword down in an arc for her head, but Sara was able to bring her 'staff' up in time, blocking the lethal strike and leaving Oliver free to land a solid punch to their attacker's head. This advantage was lost almost immediately, however, as the man struck back in retaliation and sent Oliver crashing over the couch, before fending off Sara's own attack. He managed to grab the end of her makeshift weapon with one hand, holding it in place as he brought his sword down, cleaving the pole in two. The piece in the man's hand was used against Oliver, slamming into the archer's head and sending him stumbling away, before being brought to bear on Sara, stunning her and, due to her dropping her own piece of the staff at the strike, leaving her open to several more quick jabs to her head with the attacker's sword hand. The weight of the hilt helped to stun her further, and she was quickly sent to the ground, her head ringing.

As she tried to shake away the dazed feeling ringing around her head, Sara watched as Oliver renewed his attack, using a heavy-looking candlestick holder to block the assassin's sword and get in several blows of his own to the man's head and chest. This assault was stopped with a swift jab, Oliver being sent stumbling once more, and Sara tried to return to the fray. She barely managed to raise her head, however, before one of the attacker's feet connected hard with her jaw, laying her low once again. The blow sent her mind reeling once more, and she fought to get rid of the spinning sensation her head was going through once more. The sound of a crash certainly helped speed this along, and she grabbed onto it with her mind, tuning back into the world to see the assassin being pushed up against one of the couches in a sitting position by Oliver, the remnants of a small table littered around him. Oliver wasted no time in pulling off the attacker's mask, revealing an Arabic man that was all too familiar to Sara, a strong sense of dread swelling in her at the sight.

Oliver just appeared confused. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Just a warrior." The man said, looking past Oliver to stare at Sara, before returning his gaze to his captor. "Like you."

"Why are you dressed like Malcolm Merlyn?" Oliver demanded, his voice a growl. "Huh? Who sent you?!"

The assassin remained silent, his only response being to throw a knife at the chandelier that was suspended above Sara. There was a bright flash as the steel blade cut through the power cord, and the metal and glass mass came crashing to the ground in an even brighter blaze. Sara only just managed to roll out of the way, the crash of the once beautiful light fixture almost deafening her. She looked around, the feeling of warm blood trickling down to her lip, to see Oliver staring at the place the assassin had been only moments before, and Sara felt a cold prickling in her heart, something she hadn't felt for a very long time.

Fear.

Her months of freedom were at an end. Al Ow-al had come for her.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Aidan ran along the roof of the pesticide plant, footsteps thudding against the brick as he revelled in the air rushing past him, the blood pumping through his veins faster and faster. Reaching the edge of his section f roof, he pushed himself off, running along the wall for a second before using the surface as a platform to send himself flying. An arrow whistled past ahead of him, dragging a line of cable behind it as it flew through the air, and he grabbed on, the tough leather of his glove protecting his hand from being sawed in half by the wire that was quickly pulled taut in his grip. He slid down the cable, before letting go and dropping the last few feet, hitting the ground with a roll before straightening up in front of the two vigilantes already present, waiting by the access door. He was pretty sure he could hear Sara mutter 'show-off' under her breath, but didn't pay it any mind.

"You're late." The Arrow growled as he lowered his bow. Aidan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"This isn't exactly the easiest place in the world to get to, you know." He defended his tardiness, curling and uncurling his fist as he tried to work out the strain his fingers and palm had gone through. "Besides, I was in the middle of something." For the past few days, Sin and he had been looking into a string of seemingly random disappearances from across the city, although all of them had the connection being in the same fifteen block radius. Too many vanishings to be a lone wolf, and he'd already dealt with most of the gangs that dealt in flesh. Or at least, he'd thought he had. Aidan had been on his way to question a few 'local sources' when he'd gotten the call, and, for the briefest of moments, he had considered ignoring it. This had been going on for weeks, and he needed to put an end to it now. But, as Sara had told him what was planned, and as he noticed the slight tremor in her voice, he had known that he had to help.

Not to mention, the abandoned plant had been on the other side of the city when Aidan had set off. The fact that he hadn't picked up any police in his journey was a miracle in itself, considering the speed he'd been going at.

The Arrow did not respond to his words, although Sara's face displayed how she clearly understood the importance of his work.

"This shouldn't take long." She told him. "Just stay close, and try not to get dragged in if things go south." Aidan frowned beneath his mask.

"I know how to handle myself." He objected, feeling slightly hurt at the words. After all his training, after everything he'd done, she still didn't see him as ready. Sara's look, however, didn't change.

"Not against these guys, you don't." She told him, and Aidan spotted a small flicker in her eyes. She was seriously worried, not just for herself and what was to come, but for him as well. The second he recognised this, he let the argument drop.

"Lead the way." He said after a moment, addressing both archer and ninja. The Arrow turned, taking a few steps before moving through into the dark abandoned pesticide plant, with Sara following and Aidan not too far behind.

The three moved through the almost silent interior of the pesticide plant, using the multiple catwalks to circumvent the massive number of pipes that led away in every direction, along with the banks of machinery that lined the floor. Coming to a fork in the path, the Arrow signalled behind him briefly before heading right, while Sara and Aidan moved left. It didn't take a genius to tell the youngest vigilante that the need for silence was paramount here, and he moved carefully, boots making only the softest of sounds as the pair moved forward and up, circling around a large piece of very complex looking pipes and containers.

Using the silent trek, Aidan went over what he had been told about the situation, both directly and indirectly. Sara had told him that someone had attacked her earlier, that said attacker was very dangerous, and that they knew where he was hiding. They were going to take him down and, if that didn't work, most likely _put_ him down, something Aidan hadn't even blinked at. A typical job, one that he had done many times before, both in and out of costume. It was what Sara _hadn't_ said however, that gave him the most to ponder. In all the time the two had known each other, or at least when they weren't beating the snot out of each other, Aidan had been the one to do most of the talking. There was just something about Sara, something instinctual, that told him he could trust her with whatever he said, and this had practically shattered the dam that held his past firmly where it belonged, the back of his mind where it couldn't hurt him. But Sara, aside from a few points of her own past and family once Aidan had figured out who she was, had stayed virtually silent. He knew she hadn't spent her time with Oliver Queen on his island, or at least not all of it, and he knew that she had been heavily trained by a group of very dangerous people. When he had asked her who they were, however, she had refused to speak, but the look in her eye had told him that they were not a nice bunch. These small bits of information helped to fill in some of the blanks surrounding their current objective, with Sara's shaken up look and report on the fight making things pretty clear to Aidan.

Whoever had trained her was either trying to get her back, or kill her. And that was more than enough motivation for him.

Ahead of him, Sara finally came to a halt, and Aidan stopped alongside her, crouched on the metal walkway as he listened. There was the sound of something scraping against metal not too far away. Considering the facts, he assumed that someone was sharpening a blade. This relatively peaceful sound, however, soon came to an end, and the plant was plunged into a deafening silence. That was, until the whooshing sound of an arrow in flight pierced the air.

"Arrows. Such an ineffective projectile." A voice called out, sounding Middle Eastern to Aidan's ears. "I find it strange anyone still fears them."

"I'll show you why- if you don't leave Sara Lance alone." The Arrow responded, and Aidan's eyes widened at the revelation. The Arrow knew who Sara was? Interesting. "This is your only warning."

"And it would be effective, were you to pose a threat to me." The man said, sounding almost cheerful. "You barely defeated Malcolm Merlyn at nearly the cost of your own life." The Arabic man pointed out. Aidan heard soft footsteps beneath him and, looking down, he saw the back of the man's head as he stepped out of the shadows, although the man's focus was on the Arrow, who stood on a small ledge several metres away. "What hope would you have against the man who trained him?" He asked rhetorically.

Aidan felt a soft tap on his shoulder, and turned to look at Sara with an inquisitive gaze. She motioned to a pipe that cast its shadow over him, and he nodded, swiftly ascending the metal construct with nary a sound. His years of working the streets, coupled with Sara's less combat-oriented moments of training, allowed him to move in virtual silence when he needed to. Reaching the top of his makeshift ladder, Aidan crouched, looking down at the scene below him.

"Helps that I didn't come alone." The Arrow was stating. The Arabic man looked around to see Sara, who had stepped into the light of the catwalk. Her staff was slung around her shoulder, and he entire being promised a slow and painful end to anyone who pissed her off.

The man either didn't pick up on this, or simply didn't care. "The child of Ra's al Ghul awaits your return." He called out to her.

"I'm not going back." Sara said.

"That's not your choice." The man stated plainly. "I have orders to return you- alive or dead." Aidan grimaced. This wasn't going to end well.

"You're not going to kill me." Sara said as fact, although it didn't quite register with her opponent.

"You overestimate your importance." The man said, before Aidan's heart practically stopped as the man looked up, staring right at him. "You should leave while you can, boy." He called out, but Aidan refused to move, staring defiantly back. Whether the man could see his look in the darkness or not wasn't important.

"Regardless," the man continued, focusing back on Sara, "you're coming back with us."

The Arrow, along with Sara and Aidan, didn't miss the phrasing. "Us?" He growled.

The man turned to Oliver with what Aidan assumed to be a grin. "Like you, I did not come alone."

A soft sound to his right caught Aidan attention, and he turned, hands scrambling for their batons. He was too slow, however, as a masked man dressed identically to the one below seemed to materialise from the darkness, kicking Aidan in the side. The strike caused the vigilante to lose his balance, feet slipping against the metal as he tumbled from his perch. Throwing his arms out, he grabbed at another pipe, grimacing slightly at the abrupt stop but using the momentum in his legs to swing himself back onto Sara's narrow catwalk. Two more masked assailants had appeared, and he lashed out, baton cracking into the skull of the nearest as he joined in the fight with Sara. His first attacker followed him down, and now the thin metal platform became home to a small, yet incredibly fierce battle.

Shoving his way past the dazed assassin he had hit, Aidan found himself back to back with Sara in the blink of an eye, fending off one attacker while the blonde ninja handled the other two. And, as with the Mayor's gang, Aidan as reminded why such a partnership was the stuff of nightmares for Starling's criminals. In the middle of the fight, the two moved like they had been born to work together. Their hours of sparring seemed to give them a connection, one that allowed them to chain their strikes perfectly. When Aidan knelt to target the legs of Sara's foes, Sara reached over him to swing her staff at Aidan's own combatant. It was like two rivers flowing into one, with Aidan's quick strikes coupling with Sara's complex attacks to weave a spell of perfect chaos.

Still, despite this, Aidan found himself admitting to the truth of Sara's earlier words. He truly had never come up against anyone like this. These three warriors were like mirror copies of Sara, using deadly force and moves that Aidan had never even seen to hold their own against the vigilante duo, while their boss contended with the archer on the lower level. In fact, the young fighter didn't think that, after the first few seconds, a single strike from either side had actually found its mark. Still, that wasn't for lack of trying, and Aidan was quickly growing tired at fending off the seemingly inexhaustible assassins' strikes.

His awareness rushed back to him, however, as he saw one of the men thrust a knife at Sara's exposed back, the blonde too focused on Aidan's own attacker to notice. Surging up and around his friend, Aidan put himself between her and the blade, knowing that it was too late to redirect the strike. He felt the knife pierce shirt, skin and flesh as he took the hit, pain flooding through his even as he grasped the hand that held the knife. Twisting the attacker's wrist, he forced him to release his hold, before gripping his throat and slamming him against the fence of the catwalk. Holding the man in place with one arm, Aidan slammed his fist against the man's throat, a funny choking sound accompanying the punch, before pushing forward and up, shoving the assassin over the edge. He heard a strangled scream as he fell for a second, before a sickening thud brought the noise to a halt. Aidan didn't need to look over the side to see what had happened. As much as he wished he didn't, he knew what sound the bones of a man's neck made when they shattered.

As Aidan stumbled back, a wave of pain-fuelled exhaustion washing over him, he glanced down at the hilt of the knife, still poking out from between his ribs. For a moment, he simply stared at the piece of metal, almost amazed at how it had found its way there. That moment of distraction, however, was one that didn't go unnoticed by his attackers, and he felt another flash of pain lance across his back as another knife was dragged along his skin, nowhere close to the penetration of the first hit but still plenty painful. This time, however, he did cry out, the white-hot agony overpowering his already fractured mental barriers as, for the first time in a long while, he allowed it to wash over him.

The next few second seemed to pass quickly and slowly at the same time. He heard an arrow whiz through the air behind him, and then Sara was there, her staff a blur despite how Aidan was able to see every move as she forced their two remaining attackers away. Her task done, she looped her arm under his armpit and pulled him forward, with him doing what he could to follow. A green blur past by in front of them for a second, and suddenly forward became up, Aidan's legs dangling as he left the ground and was yanked skywards, Sara's arm keeping its steady grip even as the sound of shattering glass rang in his ears. He thought he felt a few pieces scrape against his face, but he couldn't be sure. Everything was so numb, all sound muffled beyond recognition. Aidan thought he heard the Arabic man shouting from beneath him, but he couldn't tell for certain, the world swimming in and out of clarity every few seconds, the occasional return of sight and sound making his head throb.

Aidan felt the flat roof of the plant under his feet, although his legs failed to hold him up and he fell on his back, a lingering flash of pain forcing him to his side as he tried to keep the wound on his back free from agitation. In front of him, he could see Sara talking with the Arrow, although he was unable to fully follow their conversation.

"…et him to a hospit…ot ready to kno…die otherwi…llie, just trust m…"

Eventually, the Arrow moved away, vanishing over the edge of the roof, and Sara knelt by Aidan's side, her mask and wig removed as she smiled down comfortingly at him, although the worry was clear in her eyes. She pulled off his own mask, and seemed to be saying something, although the darkness enclosing Aidan managed to mute her tongue. Despite that, he smiled anyway, happy to have his friend close by him, to feel the warmth of her hands against his face.

He could still feel the sensation as the shadows finally encircled him fully, drawing him to its core and its comforting layers of nothingness.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

For the second time in just over a week, Thea found herself moving through the hallways of Starling General, although this time around was accompanied by a heightened level of panic and a speed that might be called frantic although she couldn't find it in herself to care. In fact, there was only one thought running through her head, forcing aside everything else and pushing her to move faster.

Aidan was hurt.

Thea had not been having a good few days. After Donner had offered his plea of life imprisonment, she had done everything to convince both her mother and herself that they didn't need to take it, that they could win the trial without whatever pity Donner had provided, no doubt simply to make this entire case just go away faster. And how had her mother responded? By choosing to take the deal, while making up some bullshit excuses to try and hide the fact that she was just giving up. Thea's anger still surged through her at the thought. While her mother may be ready to just spend the rest of her days in prison, she was not. Thea needed her mother, now more than ever. Why couldn't she just see that?

Still, whatever anger she had felt had almost instantly been forgotten for the time being when she'd got the call from a crying Sin. That in itself was enough to set off alarms in Thea's head; from what she had gathered in their brief time together, the spunky seventeen-year old was not someone who cried easily. With this in mind, it had taken a few minutes of patience before she was able to decipher the girl's words, and honestly, she was amazed that she'd been able to keep a grip on her phone. Aidan had been hurt. Bad. Apparently, someone had found him in the mouth of an alley, almost soaked in blood with a bloody streak across his back AND a dangerously large stab wound in his midsection. Sin had been contacted immediately, since she was Aidan's emergency number, and was calling Thea while their friend was in surgery.

Hearing all of this, along with Sin's unspoken request for her presence, Thea didn't think she had ever moved faster. A few quick words to the staff at Verdant clearing up after the night before, and she was gone, jumping into her car and racing for the hospital. She may have broken a few speed limits on the way, but that could be sorted out another time. And now, here she was, moving through the hallways of the hospital just under twenty minutes after first getting Sin's call, having paused only to ask what room Aidan was in at the front desk.

Reaching the room in question, the door open and the voice of someone she assumed to be a doctor coming through, Thea walked in slowly, eyes skimming over everything before settling on the main feature. Sin sat by the bed, eyes red as she held her friend's hand while listening to the doctor, or half-listening really, seeing where her focus was almost entirely directed. The doctor stood beside Sin, checking the clipboard in her hand as she spoke. And then, there was Aidan, laid out on the bed.

He looked terrible. His skin was pale and the number of wires and machines around him was almost obscene. A mask was placed over his face, and Thea saw that it was connected to a ventilator, making her stomach drop. How badly had he been hurt, to need something else to _breathe_ for him? A medical gown and the bedsheets covered his body, although Thea could see the white cotton bandages threaded around his shoulder, peeking across his neck. He seemed to be sleeping normally, with the assistance of a morphine-filled IV bag being fed into him, but she couldn't be certain, as his eyes were moving about quickly behind their lids, at a speed that grated her nerves. What was he seeing?

Pulling her eyes away from Aidan for the moment, Thea turned her attention to the doctor, still stood by the bed with her clipboard.

"What happened to him?" She asked as the doctor turned to face her, apparently hearing her arrival. The doctor sighed.

"He has a nasty puncture wound on his upper abdomen, only just missing the stomach." She explained. "That along with the wound across the back of his shoulder blades resulted in a high amount of blood loss. We've managed to stem the bleeding and seal the wounds, but even so, he's not out of the woods yet." Thea nodded at the explanation, although it only raised more questions in her mind. Namely, what had _happened_ to him to take so much damage?

"Do you know when he'll wake up?" She asked eventually, only to receive a short shake of the head in response.

"We're keeping him under for the time being, at least until the worst is over." The doctor turned to regard Aidan for a moment, a look of pity in her eyes. "The injuries he took were far from clean ones. The stab wound was jagged, and to be honest, it's a miracle that he even made it to the hospital in the first place. He's under an immense amount of pain right now, and likely will be for the next few hours. The most we can do is try and keep the worst of it at bay. After that, we'll let him wake up on his own. Sometime tomorrow or the day after is most likely." Thea nodded once more, and the doctor left, closing the door softly behind her.

Thea moved closer to the bed, standing beside Sin. The girl didn't even seem to notice her there, staying almost fixed in her position. Thea tentatively reached out, hand brushing against Sin's shoulders. The girl tensed up instantly, head whipping around to see what had touched her. Her eyes caught Thea's hand, quickly working up the arm to come to rest on her face. She relaxed almost instantly, recognising her new friend, and she hastily rubbed her face, removing the wetness that stained her cheeks.

"Thanks for coming." She said quietly, and Thea let one corner of her mouth creep upwards. Partly in support, and partly due to this being the first time she had seen through the younger girl's almost rock-hard exterior.

"Of course." She replied, taking a firmer grip as she squeezed Sin's shoulder comfortingly. "That you for letting me know." Sin grinned slightly.

"He'd want you to be here." She said, and Thea's eyebrow twitched up slightly.

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused. Sin's grin somehow got softer and snarkier at the same time.

"You're special to him, you know that? You and Roy are the first people he's tried to be properly friendly with in, about a decade, I think. Not since he met me, at least." Thea's eyes widened at the revelation. Ten years with only Sin as his friend? Not to insult the girl or anything.

"Seriously?" She asked, half amazed and half disbelieving. Sin just nodded.

"Seriously." She emphasized. "I mean, he works at a bar, so he'd gotta be friendly, but he's never actually tried as hard as he has recently. It's almost embarrassing to watch, really." She admitted, smiling fondly at the sleeping Aidan before the sadness began to return to her eyes.

Seeing this, Thea stepped closer, dropping down slightly and wrapping her arm around the Glades girl's shoulders in a half, but very warn, hug.

"He'll be fine, you know that." She told Sin, although she couldn't really tell whether it was solely for the girl's benefit or her own. "Aidan doesn't seem the kind to give up easily." Thea smiled slightly at the near exact repetition of her words to Aidan when the two had first met, especially considering how Sin seemed to calm down in almost the same way.

They stayed where they were for several minutes, looking down at Aidan's relatively peaceful face, before a loud rumble broke the silence. Looking to her friend, Thea saw Sin's face grow a light red as she pressed a hand to her stomach.

"Have you eaten yet?" The heiress asked the street rat, although the answer was blaringly obvious. She didn't give Sin a chance to answer, reaching into her bag and pulling out a few notes. "Here, get yourself some breakfast." Sin didn't take the money.

"I'm not hungry." She insisted, and Thea merely rolled her eyes. That excuse didn't work for five years olds, did she _really_ think it was going to work now?

"The doctor said he won't wake up until tomorrow at the earliest. Do you think he'd want you to starve yourself on his account?" Sin looked down, and Thea winced at playing the guilt card so quickly. "Look, you don't want to wait for someone on an empty stomach. Believe me, I know."

She seemed to have broken through, as Sin finally took the money. "If you say so." She relented. "You want anything?" Thea shook her head.

"Already eaten." She told the girl, who had already reached the door. Chances were, she'd be back in under ten minutes, out of breath from having run the whole way. Still, it was nice to see Sin's loyalty to her friend, even if it hinged on stubbornness.

Sin pulled open the door, and Thea watched her go, leaving the door partially ope3n. Taking the empty seat by the bed, she watched Aidan's twitching face for a moment, peace settling every few seconds before it was broken once more.

"You better wake up soon." She told the sleeping man, voice low as she gave him her command. "Sin's already looking half mad, you don't want to make her worse, do you?" She slipped her hand into Aidan's, squeezing lightly as, for once, his face managed to still for more than a few seconds. Feeling someone watching her, Thea cast a look back at the door, only to see a flash of dirty blonde hair as whoever it was moved out of sight.

She was about to get up to investigate when her attention was snatched away, and she whirled back around to stare at her hand. Aidan's fingers, lax before, had curled around her own, and her squeezing, the light sensation making her heart pick up a few additional beats.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Sara wished she was able to make up her mind as she led her father into the Clock Tower. She had spent months doing everything possible to avoid the man, knowing that he would be in danger the second he found out she was still alive. Even this was proving her right, since it was only the appearance of Al Ow-al and his threat to her that had forced her to reveal herself. Still, she couldn't deny the fact that, as much as she wished it didn't, it did feel pretty good to have him up here, to be with him for the first time in six years. Even after everything she had done, transforming from the naïve girl to a hardened killer, she was still his daughter, his little girl, and nothing she said could change that for him. It was perfect and annoying at the same time, and Sara had to resist letting out her groan of irritation.

Why could these things ever be simply for once?

"Well, I can't believe I didn't think to look for you up here." Her father said as he cast his eye around.

"It's a good vantage point." She told him, the analytical side of her, the one the League had infused in her, flaring up for a moment before she squashed it back down for the time being. "You can see the whole city."

"Like a bird on a wire." The elder Lance said dryly, and Sara chuckled at the surprisingly apt words.

"Where I was, they have you choose a new name." She told the older man. "I chose Ta-er al-Sahfer. It's Arabic. For Canary." She watched as her father connected the dots.

"I bought you that canary when you were ten." He noted, and Sara's mind flashed her a memory of a constantly singing bird as she moved around the hideout, gathering up equipment. Knowing the League, Sara was well aware that they might attack at any time. Better to be prepared than caught unaware.

"I was as far from home as you can get, but I never forgot where I came from." She remarked, feeling a strange sense of pride at succeeding where so many others had failed. After a moment, she turned back to her father. There were some things she had to say, while she still had the chance. "You know how they say the first thing you forget about somebody when they're gone is their voice?" She asked. "You can remember their face, and they way they move, but you can't hold on to the way they sound." She reached out, gently touching her father on the cheek. "I never forgot your voice, Dad."

The man seemed almost close to tears. "Sweetheart-" he started, before Sara felt the shift in the room. Someone was here, someone very unwelcome.

"We're out of time." She said, sensing the people behind her. She turned to face the threat, staff whipping out as she did so, and stood before Al Ow-al and his two remaining minions. She felt her father step back, hearing the soft sound of his gun being drawn.

"So, this is where you wanted your father to die." Al Ow-al said, and Sara bit back her rage at the statement. He was willing to hurt her family to get to her, he already _had_ , and that meant only one thing.

No mercy.

"What the hell, Sara, who are these guys?" Her dad demanded, as the three masked men slowly moved forwards.

"Associates of your daughter, Officer Lance." Al Ow-al explained for her.

"Well, she always did have the worst taste in friends." Her father noted, not sparing the sarcasm.

"Did you really think we could not find you here?" The lead assassin asked, directing his focus back to Sara as he drew his sword.

"No." She said, holding her staff out in front of her with both hands. She was on her turf now, and she wouldn't let the assassin take her unawares this time. "I knew you would."

"Go!" Al Ow-al barked at his men. The two minions surged forward, looking to encircle Sara and attack her dad-

Only for one of them to get suddenly yanked upside down and left dangling five feet in the air, courtesy of the rope snare he had been caught in. The numbers were even now, with the older cop against the remaining assassin grunt while Sara faced down the ringleader.

Her father opened fire on his target, but Sara saw the assassin avoid each shot, slipping around the bullets with masterful, if perhaps arrogant ease. Pulling her focus back to the main threat, she split her staff in two, using the pieces as escrima sticks as she pressed her attack against the more experienced assassin. Although, while he may have been an expert sword master, Sara's constantly moving front presented him with a clear challenge, and the blonde had to thank Aidan's choice of weapon, along with his dedication to perfecting it. The hours she had spent training with the young man, who had grown to become one of the best opponents she had face, meant that dealing with this less-prepared target was almost simple. Sara landed a hard blow to his face, the force of the hit spinning him around and positioning him in just the right place. Al Ow-al stepped on a loose floorboard, activating a nail gun that launched a quick burst. The metal spikes embedded themselves in the man's thigh, forcing him to his knees. He looked up from his spot to Sara, now standing over him with her escrima sticks ready.

"You should be mindful of your surroundings." She advised. Before she could finish things, however, Al Ow-al quickly forced himself back to his feet to resume his attack. Sara fought with a ferocity even she hadn't known she'd had, but still, it was not enough. Slowly but surely, the Arabic assassin proved that, hone ground or not, the younger woman was no match for his skill when it came to a drawn-out fight. The sword sliced against her calf, the cut sending Sara to her knees, the blade reappearing at her neck. Movement to the side caught here eye, and she saw that the second assassin had managed to free himself of his ensnarement, and her heart dropped. Whatever advantage she had once had was now gone. It was over.

Al Ow-al pulled off his hood and stood before her, staring down contemptuously. "So, this is where it ends for you." He sneered. "But don't worry, I'll be sure to pass on my condolences to your little friend. Maybe I will even finish the work Aljarad began." He raised his sword to strike-

Before an arrow flew through the clock's glass face, embedding itself in the far wall as the wire it had dragged along was pulled tight.

A moment later, and Oliver arrived, sliding along his line and into the hideout, familiar green hood concealing his face. He skidded along the ground on his knees, taking Al Ow-al's legs out from under him, the man crashing to the floor as the archer engaged the second assassin. He blocked the swinging axe with his bow and easily beat the warrior down. Renewed by the vigilante's arrival, Sara managed to gain the upper hand on her main attacker. The Arabic man's head was soon under her staff, pressure already growing as Sara prepared for the inevitable.

Looking to her father, she saw him on his back, knocked to the ground by the last assassin who stood over him, ready to move in for the kill. Conflict tore through Sara at the sight, but she held firm. He could handle himself.

"Guns are a coward's weapon." The assassin spat at the disarmed older man, "What are you without your sidearm?"

The grizzled cop didn't waste a second, pulling out a snub-nosed revolver and shooting his attacker once, the bullet flying straight through the man's heart. "A guy with a spare." Sara heard him retort, before he pulled himself up and staggered over, looking at her holding Al Ow-al at her mercy. She gritted her teeth. Like it or not, there was only one way this could go now.

"You think because you are the beloved you will be granted your freedom?" Her prisoner spat, and Sara knew the truth in his words. The one who had sent these men would not stop until she had returned, of her own free will or in a body bag.

"There's only one freedom." She replied, her words cold against the assassin's rage. "Let me grant you yours." His neck was snapped the second she stopped speaking, the dead body dropping to the floor as she stalked over to the remaining assassin. She grabbed the man, pulling him into the same position that had just cost his master his life.

"You don't have to do this." Oliver told her. "It's over." His naivety was almost refreshing. How far he was from the truth.

"Not yet." She spat, readying herself for what was about to happen.

"Sara, baby, don't…" Her father said helplessly, looking certain about what his daughter was only moments away from doing. He was about to be surprised.

"Tell Ra's al Ghul that my family is off limits." She instructed the assassin, tightening her grip ever so slightly to emphasise her point. "His quarrel, is with me." She tossed her captive to the ground, the man not hesitating for a second as he threw himself through the broken clock face, escaping on the same line Oliver had rode in on only a minute before.

Sara retracted her staff. "I'm sorry you saw that." She told her father, refusing to look him in the eye. After what had just happened, she could barely deal with the shame she already felt, let alone the added burden that such an action would bring. "I can't imagine what you must think of me."

"I think you're a survivor." The older Lance replied instantly. "I think you're one of the bravest people I've ever known." She looked up at him at the unexpected praise. "You're my daughter. It's time for you to come back home." He said, pulling her into a hug that she just couldn't return. The last few minutes had shown her the truth of the situation she found herself trapped in, and it was already too late. She had no choice now. She let her father hold her for a moment longer, before pulling away, despite the burning desire for the exact opposite.

"I can't." She said sadly.

"Why not?" Her father demanded.

"They are never going to stop looking for me." Sara said. She wished he could see how it was better this way, even though it felt like driving a knife through both of their hearts.

"I'll protect you. We'll protect you." The old cop looked back to Oliver, who stood silently behind him. "Tell her it's safe to stay." He practically begged, desperation clear in his voice. "If there's you, me, and your other friend, then…"

"Dad." Sara said, bringing her father's attention back to her, away from the shaky plan he was trying to come up with. "If they hurt you or Laurel or mom, then I really would die." She told him, silently forcing away the images that had surged up at the thought, the afterimages of her nightmares floating around in her subconscious.

"But they need to know." The man protested.

"They can't. They can't, Daddy." Sara insisted.

"Why not?"

"You know why! I came back to make sure that my family was safe, and you are." She explained to the elder Lance, pushing away her growing irritation at his stubbornness as she tried to make him understand. "But if they knew I was alive, Laurel and mom, they would never stop looking for me, and that could get them both killed." And Sara would sooner die than let that happen.

Her father pulled her to him again. "I can't let you go." He said, breaking down at last as the emotional strain of the last few minutes finally won out. "I can't let you go!"

"I have to-Dad, I have to-I have to go." Sara said as she pulled away, tears springing up in her own eyes. "I love you." She looked to Oliver, who was still watching the scene at a slight distance. "Keep them safe." She told him, before turning and almost running out. She had to leave as soon as possible, before more showed up. And, she knew that the longer she stayed in the Clock Tower, with such a proximity to her Daddy, the less likely she was to actually follow through. The sooner she got out, the better.

First, however, there was something she needed to do. Someone she needed to see.

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Several days later, although the majority of prior events remained unknown to her, Thea was walking through the hospital once more, a definite spring in her step as she moved along the familiar route to Aidan's room. She had been feeling different lately, freer, as though a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. In her defence, the past couple days had been pretty good to her, a string of good luck that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Although, this good fortune was pretty heavily centred around two points in her life, perhaps the most important events for her right now.

The first of these was that her mother had decided to reject Donner's offer of life imprisonment. Thea had been so certain that the older Queen would not change her mind, to the extent that she had started to question whether or not to simply let her. It was common knowledge in the family as to where she and Oliver had got their stubbornness from, and Moira Queen was a veritable champion at sticking to her guns. When she got an idea or plan of action locked in her head, she rarely let it go, and woe betide anyone who tried to alter it. Thea still found it a challenge to get over her amazement that she and her older brother had actually managed to break through to their mother albeit after a great deal of work and convincing. Still, the sheer joy Thea felt at hearing how her mother was actually going to fight the case, to prove her innocence, had failed to abate, even in the three days since she had first heard the plan. A nagging voice at the back of her mind told her that they might need a new lawyer for the trial, though. Jean was good, and an old friend of her mother, but still, Thea felt that things might go better with some a tad more… proactive? She'd give it some thought another time, when she wasn't too busy.

And then there came her second burst of good fortune. The day after her mother's choice, Aidan had finally woken up. Sin, who had barely left her closest friend's side, had told the other two in the small group that the sedatives had been cut off the day before, the constant flashes of pain that had plagued Aidan's face having steadily shrunk before vanishing altogether. He had certainly looked healthier when Thea had come to visit, the colour back in his face and light glittering in his eyes when he smiled, returning to the Aidan she had been growing accustomed to. Even his injuries had been healing at a faster than anticipated rate, although the doctor had wanted him to stay a few more days, just to be sure. Now however, the time was up, and Thea had volunteered to give him a lift home, seeing as how Sin couldn't drive, legally speaking, Roy was covering for her at the club's preparations, and Aidan himself had been expressly forbidden from doing so. Not that Thea would have taken 'no' for an answer anyway. After what he had been through, Aidan deserved this much at least.

She reached the door to Aidan's room and, seeing it almost wide open, stepped through immediately.

"Alright, you ready to get out of-" She began, before freezing as her eyes caught up with her mouth.

Aidan was stood by the window, looking out over the city. He only had on a pair of jeans, with a red button-up shirt in his hands, twisting it in his grip and looking to be about to pull it on. But that wasn't what caught Thea's attention. It was the scars that covered his back that gained such a distinction. The bandages only covered the back of his shoulder blades and a thin band around where his lungs were, protecting the slash and stab that had brought him here, but failing to hide the white lines that snaked out from underneath, while the ones on his lower back were placed on full display. Each one was different, ranging from short to long and clean to jagged. There were a handful of circular burns dotted about that could only have come from cigarettes, and a larger patch of leathery skin lay just above the belt line, leading around the right side of Aidan's stomach. And, perhaps most distressing of all, there was the knotted bullet scar, peeking between the two rows of bandages, that seemed to be placed only a few inches away from his heart.

Thea's words had clearly reached Aidan's ears, as he quickly turned away from the window, shirt quickly brought up to cover his front. Despite this, the young Queen could still spot another bullet wound on his right bicep from where it poked out above the shirt, while the opposite shoulder had a nasty, jagged mess scratched into it, looking like a child's scribblings. The edges of the burn on his back were creeping around the only just reach his stomach, and Thea could only assume that more lay under the shirt.

The two stared at each other for a minute, both wide-eyed but unable to speak. Eventually, Aidan's eyes darted to the clock on the wall, and he cleared his throat.

"You're early." He said, still sounding half strangled. The two words managed to break Thea's tongue loose from its frozen state, though her eyes still couldn't move.

"What the hell happened to you?!" She nearly screamed, the scars filling her mind with a sense of horror. Aidan shrugged non-committing.

"A lot?" He suggested with a slight laugh, although he refused to look her in the eye. Thea stepped forward slowly, careful of the increasingly tenseness of Aidan's entire body. The man looked like he was desperate for an escape, although Thea couldn't bring herself to give him one.

Soon, she stood in front of him, one hand reaching out as she pulled away the shirt. Aidan's own hand shot out to grab her wrist, and he grimaced slightly at the pressure placed on the joint. He seemed to notice this, however, as his grip lessened, although it remained just as firm in preventing her goal.

"Don't…please…" He quietly begged, and Thea looked up at him, the two almost eye to eye despite the height difference. She stared at him pleadingly, silently asking him to trust her and let her see. Aidan's face was practically on lockdown, although his eyes managed to express what he felt. Hesitation and confusion, though these were fairly miniscule compared to the fear she saw. Thea tried to make her gaze warm, comforting and reassuring him that she wasn't going to do anything to hurt him, nor would she run away. And slowly, _very slowly,_ Aidan's fingers pulled themselves away from her wrist, his eyes becoming free of the confused, hesitant look, although the fear still remained.

Unhampered, Thea grasped the shirt material, gently pulling it away to reveal the skin beneath. And she couldn't help the sharp gasp of shock and horror that accompanied the sight.

His front was as badly hurt as his back, if not worse. Multiple scars decorated the muscled frame, ranging from clean lines only a few inches long to the two jagged messes that led from his hip to the third rib up on the opposite side. More circular burns were scattered about, while smaller cuts decorated his arms. And there, as on his back, was the bullet hole, the knotted skin spreading out across his chest in an unnaturally pale network against his skin. Thea grazed her fingers over the wound, Aidan flinching slightly at the initial contact before relaxing at the heat from the small digits.

"What happened?" She asked again, voice much smaller now. Aidan was silent for a moment, and Thea looked up at him as he finally began to speak.

"My father was never a particularly nice person." He slowly said, seeming to choose each word with the utmost care. "He drank a fair bit, but he mostly just ignored me and Mom. He had a job, so we never went hungry. It was just the deal that he'd stay out of our way if we stayed out of his."

He paused for a moment before continuing, face growing sour. "I must have been about…nine, I think, when he lost his job. He was a worked at your dad's old steel mill, and, when the place got shut down, my father lost everything. I remember him coming home that day, with a look on his face like he couldn't remember who he was anymore. It was after that that all of this," he gestured to his body, "started."

"He drank a lot more, sometimes not even leaving our apartment for days, not until he'd run out of booze. Pissed away most of our savings, actually. Landlord was about a week away from kicking us out, and daddy dearest decided to take some of his anger out on Mom. I pulled him off her, though, so he focused on me. This," he turned slightly, pointing to a thin scar just poking above the bandage over his shoulders, "was my first, from where he pushed me against a nail sticking out of the wall. But, that didn't do anything about the money. So, I took things in my own hands."

"I began to so whatever I could to make up the rent. Odd jobs, running scams on the streets, that sort of thing. I got the money needed, month after month, but it didn't help the beatings. If anything, they got worse. I guess the old man didn't like his son bringing in the bread."

Aidan paused again, looking to have to physically force himself to continue. "I think it was maybe a year or so after I met Sin that my father decided it'd be a good idea to join one of the local gangs. Violent bunch of assholes that liked to shake down and beat up whoever they came across, even women. They gave me most of these." He admitted, waving a hand over himself, although Thea's eyes were focused on the gnarled wound on his chest.

"And this?" She asked hesitantly. Aidan sighed, eyes starting to glimmer as tears slowly began to form.

"It was-I don't-" He stuttered for a moment, before eventually swallowing back the knot that had formed in his throat. "A few days after I turned eighteen, dad got drunk. He had a gun, said he was gonna shoot Mom. I got in the way, but-" He froze again, a shield seeming to form around him as he thought. "People got hurt, people died." Thea didn't press the matter, knowing that, while the physical pain had healed as best it could, the scars he carried within would take a lot longer. She had seen the same thing with Oliver when he had returned after five years, practically closed off from everyone, and knew that, if she kept pushing, Aidan would eventually push back. Hard.

The pair stayed silent for several more minutes, the noise from outside the room muffled by walls and window as they stood there, unsure of what came next. Eventually, Thea moved, pressing the shirt she still clutched in her hands back into Aidan's grasp.

"If you ever need to- I dunno, _talk_ about anything, I'll be there to listen." She said, deciding to offer the support she had failed to give last time she had been in a situation like this. Aidan nodded in reply, sadness almost wiped away from his features as he slipped the shirt on and buttoned it up, hiding both the scars and the weight they carried.

"But right now, I think we could both use a bite to eat." She said in a lighter tone, forcing away the shadows that had sprung up around the pair. "I don't know about you, but I'm hankering for some Big Belly Burger right now." Aidan smiled, and Thea turned to leave. Hearing the heavier footsteps of her friend moving to follow, away from the dark memories of the past. For now, at least.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Night had finally fallen, and Aidan found himself down in the Crypt, savagely beating the punching bag suspended from the ceiling. He was careful not to move too sharply, in fear of tearing open the stitches across his front and back, but that didn't limit the force he put into his fists as he hammered away at the leather surface. He could feel his anger drain out of him with every blow, though it always managed to surge back to its former size in the time between one punch and the following one.

The reason for this anger? The cardboard box resting by the computer monitors, and the note stuck to the top.

It had been there when he had arrived, brown colouring starkly out of place against the silver metal of the table. Aidan had glanced at the note that rested atop it, and almost instantly wished that he hadn't.

 _By the time you read this, I'll be gone…_

It was from Sara, a going away present apparently. Or at least, that was what Sin had told him when he'd asked her. According to her, Sara had shown up in his room the night before he'd woken up, telling the street girl that she was leaving and pressing the box into her arms. Sin wasn't sure why she had gone, but Aidan could hazard a guess. It was because of those ninja weirdos they had gone up against. Either they had forced Sara to run in defeat, a scenario that he had a fair amount of trouble to even consider possible, or she'd decided to leave before whoever had sent them had a chance to deploy reinforcements. The logical part of his mind saw the sense in this move. She didn't want to endanger anyone else in this, so she had left to draw away future attacks.

The rest of him, however, failed to see it like that. He was filled with a mix of anger at the ones who drove Sara away, sadness for the loss of his friend, and guilt. It was _his_ fault he'd been hurt, _his_ fault he hadn't been there to back Sara up. If he had, thing might have gone differently. She would still be here. _Wouldn't she?_

Lancing his fist forward, Aidan was pulled out of his mind as his hand went through the clearly weakened leather, sand rushing out around his wrist to pile on the ground. Pulling his hand free, he grabbed a towel from where it had been placed nearby, wiping off the sand that had clung to the sweaty limb before moving it over the rest of him. As he did so, he moved to towards the monitors, where Sin was watching something on the internet. Or, to be more accurate, he was moving to wards the box that sat beside the monitors.

No point in avoiding it anymore.

Grabbing the note, he pulled it up closer to him, running his eyes along the scribbled words.

 _Aidan,_

 _By the time you read this, I'll be gone. I'm not overly certain where yet, but I can't stay here. If I do, then my family, you and Sin will be in danger and I can't let that happen. This is the better way._

 _Now, I want to tell you something. Something I never really got the chance to. You are_ ready. _When we first met, it was pitifully easy to beat you. Then, as we trained, it got harder. Now, though? For every hit you take, you dole out at least two in return. It's been weeks since I actually got a straight victory in one of our fights, the draws building up as we both get too tired to even stand by the end. If you can do that to me, I almost feel sorry for the morons you go after every night. Almost. Just be sure to keep your head on a swivel, and remember, you're only human. Seeing you with a dagger sticking out of your stomach reminded me of that, and I need you to keep that fact in mind. Don't die just yet._

 _Good luck, Damocles. I know you've got it in you. And, just to be safe, these might be of some use down the line._

 _Your friend,_

 _Sara._

Smiling at the voice of the blonde ninja in her words, Aidan rest the paper on the table, before carefully opening the box.

In it were a folded jacket, a knife, and what appeared to be Sara collapsible staff, separated into two sticks. Putting the last item aside for now, Aidan lifted the knife. It was thin and straight, with a plain blade and a small pyramid for a pommel. A strange familiarity struck him, and he realised that this was the assassin's knife, the one that had hospitalised him. He guessed Sara wanted him to put it to better use. Placing it beside the staff, Aidan then pulled out the jacket. It was black, looking to be made of the same reinforced leather as Sara's own jacket. Feeling the article of clothing carefully, he noticed both the padded interior and the toughened sections on the chest, stomach and spine. A bit more useful than his black shirt, that was for sure. And, simply from the size, it looked like it had been fitted just for him. Aidan tried not to think about how Sara knew his measurements, choosing instead to just accept it as a very useful gift.

Setting this down, he finally took the time to examine Sara's collapsible sticks. He ran his fingers across the small buttons that allowed the telescoping effect, and, pressing it, whipped the metal around as they expanded to their full lengths. They were surprisingly light, definitely more so than his own weapons, and possessed a slightly longer reach, while still maintaining their firmness, the thinner poles connected to the circular tips not bending slightly. Adjusting his grip on both sticks, Aidan gave both a quick check over, spinning them around his fingers and taking a few short practise swings. The weapons most certainly didn't disappoint. His eyes passed over the clasp ends of the sticks that allowed then to form a staff, silently promising to test that configuration out another time. Eventually satisfied with their quality, Aidan retracted the metal and placed them down, almost reverently.

Sara was trusting him to put all of this to good use out on the streets. Well, Aidan thought as a quick glance to Sin nudged something in his mind, he had just the situation in mind to try it all out.

"Hey Sin." He called to the girl, who had clearly not been far from nodding off in the chair by the computers, considering how she came close to falling to the ground. "You mind looking into those disappearances some more?" He grinned as his friend virtually dived for the keyboard in her eagerness to continue their interrupted work, and he set it in his head to find some way to hold his injuries together before a connection was found.

They had some hunting to do, after all.

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 **Well, there you go, new chapter done! I hope you all enjoy it, since it took me a surprisingly long time to just get it done. Working around school and revision, it really was a pain.**

 **I just wanted to say this here, the length is probably going to be something of a theme. These chapters have been getting progressively longer, and I say that, while I myself do not go into this intending to write so much, please let me know if this is in any way an issue.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, feel free to drop a review, and I'll see y'all next time.**

 **TimeFury1347**

 **Also, Aljarad means 'the Locust' in Arabic. Just thought I'd let you know.**


	6. Keep Your Enemies Close

Roy was really beginning to get tired of the SCPD interrogation room.

Sat in his familiar seat in front of the metal table, two-way mirror behind him, he was reminded of several weeks ago, when he'd been brought in for going after the medical truck hijackers, with a car that hadn't been his. Although, considering what happened to it, that was probably for the best. He could vaguely remember some of what had happened before his arrest then, the skull-faced masked man pulling him out of the flipped vehicle. It was an odd parallel, he had to admit. Saved by one vigilante, then working with another, although that really was something of a loose term, and yet always ending up the same way. With cuffs on his wrists, an uneasy itching on the back of his neck, and yet another mark on his file.

Funny how the world worked, wasn't it?

As the door began to open, Roy fell back into his mind, replaying the events that had taken place only about an hour ago, that had led him from the Arrow's informant in the Glades to just another kid about to get booked. Hell, the memory was far more satisfying than what he was about to face, at any rate.

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 _The SUVs were stopping not too far away. Roy watched through a set of high-powered binoculars as the vehicles pulled up outside one of Starling's warehouse district's titular buildings, their occupants clambering out and milling around, as though they were waiting for something._

" _You should be more careful." The growl of the Arrow's voice behind him startled Roy, and he fought to keep any outward sign of his miniature heart attack hidden from the archer, although his initial jerk of surprise had kind of ruined that. "You're completely exposed."_

" _I knew you were there." He lied, although he was pretty certain that the vigilante had sussed out the truth before he'd even opened his mouth. Before he could be corrected, however, Roy continued, careful not to supply any more kindling to the fire. The Arrow was hard enough to deal with at the best of times, and right now was not turning out to be one of them._

" _What, you wanted me to tell you when the funny money guys were ready to make a deal? Here we go." He stated. Roy was feeling pretty proud of himself if he was being honest. He'd been set a task, a hard and, considering who this lot were and what they'd do to him if he got caught, potentially fatal one, and he had seen it through. None of the counterfeiters even knew they'd been followed, and they sure as hell wouldn't be ready in the slightest for Starling's own green hooded vigilante dropping in on their little criminal meet and greet. And Roy was going to be there to back him up. R, so he thought._

" _Not 'we'." The Arrow told him immediately. "Go home. I already have help." Anger flooded through Roy at the dismissal. Was he being serious? After all the work he'd put in, he was just going to be benched, forced to watch from the side-lines? Well, not if_ he _had anything to say about it._

 _He turned to argue his case, but the Arrow was already gone. A slight whistling sound came from above, and Roy looked up to see the green archer disappear up the side of the warehouse, heading to the criminal meeting. Although, that did mean that there was no one to force him to go. Settling back into his spot, Roy waited for what was sure to come next._

 _Things were silent for a few minutes, Roy remaining stock still as he strained his ears for the slightest sound of anything remotely out of place in his surroundings. There was a faint, echoing noise coming from the warehouse, most likely the ongoing meeting, but beyond that there was only the typical background hum of the Starling City night. That didn't last long, however, as Roy's ears quickly picked up the shouts and grunts that accompanied a fight, coming straight from the nearest warehouse. These noises were soon overshadowed by the rapid thudding of running footsteps, getting closer and closer to the door. Roy readied himself, preparing for what was about to happen. Maybe this would show the Arrow why he was needed._

 _A man appeared through the open doorway, one of the men from the SUVs, and Roy didn't hesitate for a second as he rushed out from his hiding spot, charging forward and tackling the man to the ground, pinning him in place as he did so. Fists began to fly as he pummelled the man, beating him over and over again as he felt the anger surge through his veins. It was guys like this that were the problem that had been strangling Starling, and especially the Glades. Ever since the Undertaking, the city district had been poisoned by crime and corruption, far more than there had been before, and Roy was sick and tired of simply letting it run rampant among the shattered neighbourhood, even spreading out across the rest of the metropolis. He was going to be a part of the solution to the people's ills, even if he had to take down every last thug, dealer and petty criminal in the city to do it._

 _It was only the flashing red and blue lights that snapped him out of his self-induced daze. Several patrol cars had pulled up around him, the police officers inside already out with their weapons drawn. Roy felt a slight twinge of surprise at seeing Lance ahead of him, gun in hand and a slightly tired look in his eyes._

" _Stay where you are, don't move!" Lance ordered, and Roy immediately pulled away from his unconscious target, hands rising up to rest behind his head._

" _I want to make a citizen's arrest." He tried to say as he was grabbed and cuffed, although it didn't see like the cops really cared._

" _Don't move." Lance ordered again, and Roy just sighed as he was led towards one of the cars, knowing full well just where he would end up next._

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

And now, here he was.

Roy looked up as Lance walked in, holding a very familiar file in his hand that he placed on the table.

"Thanks. It's been a while since I arrested you. I'd forgotten how good it feels." The police officer said sarcastically, looking down at him from the other side of the metal table. Roy quickly ran over every response he could give the man, before finally settling on the one that at least had the potential of getting him out of here sooner rather than later.

"I was working for… _him._ " He admitted softly.

"Him who?" Lance asked, and Roy couldn't suppress the sudden urge for payback that rose up in him.

"The guy that cost you your shield." Roy replied. Admittedly, it was kind of a low blow, but at least it payed the cop back for his own cheap shot. "I'm on his team." Roy continued, looking the cop in the eye as he spoke. "You are, too." Lance only stared back, consideration growing in his gaze. Eventually, he let out a deep breath.

"I'm going to go call your friend, Miss Queen." He said, picking the file back up as he made his way towards the door. "Considering your revolving door policy for this place, I'm pretty sure we've got her on speed dial." Roy deflated slightly, not looking forward to the force of nature that was ready to be brought down on him. Being arrested was bad enough, but Thea had said she'd made plans for tonight. And, regardless of whether they were in a relationship or not, he knew that there would be hell to pay from the youngest Queen. Dumping the interruption of one of her few nights away from Verdant on top of everything else would give her the _perfect_ excuse to direct her anger on him.

Reaching the door, Lance stopped suddenly, a look of curiosity passing across his face. "Just wondering, you didn't happen to spot a guy in a skull mask around there, by any chance?"

Roy managed to hide his surprise at the question, merely shaking his head in a negative. "Not that I saw. Why?" He tried to hold in the last question, but it managed to come out regardless.

"He's been seen working with the vigilante before." Lance said almost absentmindedly, as though he wasn't quite aware of who he was talking to. "And he's been spotted a few times since the Undertaking. Just thought he might've made an appearance."

Roy shrugged, hiding his interest at the unknown vigilante's history. "Sorry officer," he said, "but I have no idea where he could be."

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The Silver Centurion bar sat almost right in the centre of the Glades, practically on the crossroads between the east and west of the city district. Because of that, it had been subjected to the shockwaves that had devastated so much during the Undertaking, although, unlike so much else, it had managed to remain standing, thanks both to the strength of the building's architecture and the reinforcements of what lay beneath it. Still, the damage had been far from minor. The roof had partially fallen in, while one of the walls had collapsed. The rest had been left crumbling, as though a strong breeze might be enough to finish the job, while the floor had been left with a gaping hole in it, the cellar that lay beneath it now exposed to the mercy of the elements and whatever might fall through. While not in the worst state, considering the piles of rubble that surrounded it, it would take a fair amount of time, money and effort to get up and running again.

Luckily, the owner had had plenty of each.

"This place is amazing!" Thea exclaimed as she looked around the bar from the table she was sharing with Aidan. It was a pretty sharp contrast to the flashing lights and silver metal of Verdant, looking like it wouldn't be out of place in Ireland. The richly panelled walls coupled with the dark brown wood of the floor managed to create a feeling of openness, lit up by the warm orange light coming from several suspended glass fixtures, glittering in the light shining through them. The floor was partially concealed by multiple dark wood tables, rectangles against the walls, complete with booth seating, while circles were dotted around the space in the middle, complete with leather seated chairs, in a way that managed to create a cosy atmosphere. A long bar ran along the far end, padded stools against it while bottles and taps were lined up behind and along the counter, black surface lit up by the while light behind the bottle racks. A set of double doors on one side led into the kitchen, through which an assortment of sounds and smells wafted in, while two more doors sat in the opposite wall, one leading to toilets and the other, this one with a lock on it, proceeding, Thea presumed, to the bar's cellar. And, one either side of the centre of the room, two raised platforms led to separate areas. One was a games area, with two pool tables and an assortment of dart boards taking up the space, with a jukebox sitting just beside the step up.

And the other step led to the secondary bunch of tables, although it seemed more like a plush living room than anything. Big leather armchairs, two to each, more private, table, with a small fire burning against one wall. It was at one of these more private tables that Thea and Aidan sat, the latter having just returned with the pair's drinks.

"That is certainly one word for it." Aidan grinned as he sat down, sinking into the leather seat of the booth.

"I feel like I'm in one of those stuffy books I had to read in high school English." Thea joked, gaining a sharp laugh from her friend.

"I've heard that before." He admitted. "I don't know, I was just drawn to the aesthetics when I was putting this place together. Plus, people do seem to like the quieter feel of the place."

Thea nodded. "I can see that." She had to admit, Verdant was almost the antithesis to this calmer corner of Starling. Running her finger around the rim of her drink glass, she asked, "How long has this place been going? I'm pretty sure I've never even heard of it before."

"Yeah, we are a smaller name than some others." Aidan agreed, raising his eyebrows in Thea's direction at the statement. "I've been running this place for a few years now, even after it got wrecked in the Undertaking." He saw Thea winced slightly at the reminder of the terrible night, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, and he sent another smile her way. "Which I do not blame your mother for, by the way."

"Really?" Thea asked, her words clearly showing her scepticism.

"Really." Aidan emphasised. "She was in a bad situation, and she did the best she could. Her broadcast saved a lot of people's lives. Even mine, come to think of it." He shrugged, taking a gulp of his drink. "Hard to blame her after that."

"Yeah, well, I think you're one of the few." Thea replied, and Aidan could see the black mood starting to fall over the young woman. "I just hope the jury will be able to see things your way."

"Your mom has, like, a dozen different ways she can convince them that she's innocent." Aidan had been looking into the Undertaking, and Moira Queen, since the event had taken place, and it really was surprising how simple the case was. Malcolm Merlyn was responsible, and Moira Queen was the city's scapegoat. "You'll be fine as long as you have a good lawyer."

Thea's lips twitched up slightly. "Here's hoping." She said, taking a drink of her own. The pair sat in silence for a minute, Aidan enjoying the friendly aura of the table while Thea's eyes roamed around once more. This time, however, she seemed to focus more on the walls' decorations.

"What are these things?" She asked eventually, gesturing to the nearest assortment of knick-knacks. Aidan grinned.

"Well, the place was pretty bland before the, uh…remodelling," he explained, "so I decided to put a bit more colour in."

'A bit' didn't quite seem to do the décor justice. Pictures lined the walls, with images ranging from rolling countryside, to the Starling skyline at night, the lights in the buildings twinkling like stars and giving the city an ethereal beauty. The largest image, however, was one of the bar itself, taken on its opening night and surrounded by photographs of it's employees. In amongst these images, signs had been put up. From alcohol brands, to the bar's menu, to simply placards holding some of the cringiest jokes imaginable. There were even smaller decorative pieces, dotted here and there, that had come straight from Aidan's old stash, remnants of his not-quite-glory days. Baubles that he and Sin either hadn't sold, due to lack of interest, or had simply forgotten about, and which were no longer being looked for. Still, even if someone did decide to track them down, the handful of medieval style banners, a side effect of Aidan reading the _Game of Thrones_ books, would at least draw the eye away long enough for the ill-gotten gains to be safely removed and hidden. And, lastly, firmly fixed above the entrance to the bar, was a pair of silver Roman gladius swords, with the outline of a Roman helmet placed above, an homage to the name of the bar. The entire collection had taken just under a month to bring together, but, given the appreciative look on Thea's face, it had most certainly been time well spent.

"Well, you definitely did that." She agreed. "Although I do have to wonder, why start a bar in the first place? I'm still not sure why Ollie did it, and this area of the Glades is nowhere near as forgiving."

"It's a long story." Aidan admitted, although, less than ten seconds later, he found himself laying out the bar's history, in a way he had never done before. And all thanks to the look of curiosity in Thea's eyes, a new weakness he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to beat. They did have quite a nice sparkle.

The following half an hour seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Aidan wasn't sure whether it was the comfortable surroundings, or the lack of any immediate obstacle to pull him away, but the words between him and Thea managed to maintain the intimacy that had sprung up remarkably quickly in the relatively short amount of time they had known each other. However, unlike their last meeting in the hospital, things managed to remain light, the back and forth exchange of stories, topics and anecdotes a happy substitute to the issues surrounding both of them. And, if he was being honest, part of Aidan wished that they could just keep going on like this for the rest of the night. Maybe even the night after.

Alas, it was not to be, as, just as Thea began another story of her childhood before her father and brother's 'deaths', the humming buzz of her phone brought things to a halt. Flashing an apologetic smile, she lifted the device to her ear.

"Yeah?" She asked, before falling silent for several seconds as whoever was on the other end spoke. Whatever was being said, however, it clearly wasn't good news, as Thea's features quickly twisted into a look of supreme irritation and anger, one that promised swift and brutal revenge on whoever had been unfortunate enough to piss her off.

"I see." She said eventually, words tight as she sought to control herself. "I'll be right there." Ending the call, she stood and placed the device in her bag, pushing away the half empty glass in front of her.

"I'm sorry, I've got to go." She apologised. "Roy got himself arrested again, and they need me to bail him out." She hesitated, as though she couldn't make up her mind as whether to go or not. "I had fun tonight, though. I'm sorry for dashing off like this."

"It's fine." Aidan replied, doing his best to relax his newest friend while silently swearing a similar vengeance on Roy. "We can meet up some other time if you want, although maybe consider hiring Heroic Harper a babysitter next time?" Thea snorted in laughter, one that Aidan couldn't help but join in with.

"I'll call you." She said before moving off. "We're doing this again!" She called back to him.

"It's a date." Aidan agreed as Thea disappeared out the door, before lifting his drink and finishing it off. Closing his eyes, he let the alcohol burn down his throat as the sounds of the bar washed over him. The frothy pouring of the taps, the clicking of snooker balls, the low hum of conversation, every little sound from his own small piece of the city.

And then, just as before, he was brought back to the real world by the buzz of a phone. His phone, this time, and a text instead of a call. Pulling out the device, Aidan scanned his eyes over the short message. It wasn't much, just a few words from Sin down in the Crypt.

' **You might want to see this.'**

It took all of three seconds before Aidan was up on his feet, stepping down from the raised platform and moving towards the back of the bar, towards the door leading down. Several of the staff on shift waved to him in greeting, and Aidan responded in kind, sending each a quick grin and a wave as he weaved through the tables. Eventually, he reached the door to the cellar and, with the quick slip of the small key he had fished from his pocket, he passed through, locking the door behind him. The last thing he needed was for someone to accidentally walk in on what came next.

Aidan let his feet guide him along the familiar path between barrels and pipes, before stopping in front of a floor to ceiling row of barrels. Running his fingers along the long metal pipes extruding from the wooden surfaces, he gripped one tightly and pulled, activating the hidden mechanism behind it. A sharp _click_ sounded from behind the container as a large rectangle of wood swung open, revealing the hidden staircase it concealed. Aidan swiftly stepped through, his footsteps ringing on the stone stairs even as the heavy thud sounded behind him, as the reinforced door swung shut once more. Another few seconds of movement, and he stood in the Crypt, moving towards the computers as Sin spun around in her chair, looking remarkably pleased with herself.

"So, how did your date go?" She asked, half smirking. "Sorry I pulled you away."

"There was an entirely to be expected interruption." Aidan replied, paying back Sin's humour with his own. "Roy got himself arrested _again_ , so Thea had to go pick him up." Sin shook her head.

"Couldn't you tell Abercrombie to stop or something? Maybe he'll fanboy over Skullman as much as the Arrow."

"First off, that's not my name." Aidan countered. "Second, I doubt it." He pushed the friendly ex-felon out of his mind. "Anyway, you wanted to show me something?"

Sin nodded, spinning back around to her computer. "I was able to get some security footage from the last kidnapping." She explained. The recent disappearances had been linked together, and Aidan had almost been kicking himself when the pieces had finally been connected. "It took a little bit of work, but I think I've managed to put a name to a face." The prominent bags under the younger girl's eyes clearly emphasised how it had been more than a 'little' work, but Aidan wouldn't call her out on it. She'd taken the recent abductions almost personally, and he knew when not to get in Sin's way. If trawling through the slim bits of evidence they'd found helped her, he wasn't going to stop it.

A tad more computer magic, and Aidan was faced with a very detailed police record, alongside the footage that, according to the time stamp, had been filmed a few days ago. "John McNeal, also known as Johnny Knives." She informed him, a slight sense of smug pride in her voice. "Linked directly and indirectly to dozens of crimes, from petty theft to armed robbery ranging back to his early teens, and," she emphasised, tapping on the screen, "a big fan of one very particular dive bar in the Glades. Judging from his routine he'll be heading home in about half an hour."

A feral grin slowly but surely stretched across Aidan's face, even as his eyes flashed dangerously. "Well then," he growled in eager anticipation, "I guess I better go see him while I can. After all, you never know who you might _bump into_ in this part of the city." Despite his outward appearance, Aidan was practically crowing inside.

They had a name, a possible location, and a chance to root out the latest evil that had reared its head up in Starling. And Aidan's hands had been itching to try out Sara's little gifts all week. Why let such an opportunity go to waste?

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

' _The potentially catastrophic risk of turning on this machine far outweighs any scientific gain that might come from it.'_ Oliver stood in the lair, watching the latest coverage of the S.T.A.R. Lab's upcoming particle accelerator. One of the protesters was clearly very passionate about his work, especially when it came to spreading the word. _'The people need to understand just how dangerous technology like this is. And the very real possibility of a cataclysmic event.'_

Oliver was only half following the news report, however. While he knew that Felicity could understand this stuff like she'd been breathing it since birth, Oliver just couldn't quite wrap his head around it. It could answer so many questions about science, and any mistake could lead to a disaster, that was about it. Besides, there were more pressing concerns on his mind. Namely, the question of where the hell Diggle had gone. He hadn't heard from the man since they had cracked the latest criminal deal, and he was beginning to get worried. Diggle wasn't exactly known for sudden disappearances, at least not without getting some sort of message to the team, so his absence, and the answering machine that had come up when both he and Felicity had called him, was enough to set Oliver on edge. Where was he?

It was as if the universe itself had answered his thoughts when the sound of footsteps came from the entrance staircase to the lair. Oliver turned to find the root of the noise, and he could practically feel the lightening sensation of relief as Diggle walked in, his pace brisk and his face marred by an unsettled look.

"Where'd you go?" He asked the man, his previous anxiety unwilling to let things lie. Call it old habits. "Is everything ok?"

"Yeah." Diggle said, gathering up several pieces of equipment as he spoke. This on its own was enough to play on Oliver's instincts. "Just need a few personal days."

"What's going on?" Oliver asked, curiosity now certainly piqued.

"Have to help a friend." Diggle answered, clearly looking to avoid any questions. Something Oliver was patently incapable of doing.

"Who?"

Diggle finally stopped moving, letting out a sigh as he caved in. "Lyla Michaels." He said at last.

Felicity chose this moment to jump in to the conversation. "It's his spy girlfriend that works for A.R.G.U.S." She informed the vigilante.

"She went to Russia looking for Deadshot for me." Diggle laid everything out for the others. "Now she's missing."

Oliver nodded. He knew how much Deadshot meant to Diggle, and, from the way he spoke, this Lyla was clearly important to him too. These facts, coupled with the man's history in Oliver's 'career', left only one possible course of action. "Felicity, I think it's time we visited our Queen Consolidated subsidiary in Moscow." He informed the blonde.

"Yeah." Felicity agreed, quickly understanding what was being said and setting to work.

"Oliver, what are you doing?" Diggle asked, clearly not understanding the billionaire vigilante's actions.

"Just need to help a friend." Oliver responded without the slightest hesitation. And, considering everything the two men had been through over the last year, there really was no other way this could turn out.

"I can't ask you to do that." The ex-soldier continued to object.

"You didn't." Oliver said simply, ending whatever discussion or argument might have been about to start. Diggle was heading into danger, and he would not be going alone. While Oliver had never been in the military, he knew that you never let a member of your squad go into battle alone. He'd held to this since their partnership had begun, and he wasn't going to stop now.

"Hopefully we can get her out fast." Felicity chimed in, partially talking to herself as her fingers flew over the keyboard, plotting out the upcoming flight. "I doubt Miss Rochev will be too pleased when she figures out you've gone."

The hacker's words lit up a realisation for Oliver in that moment. He'd be gone from Starling for, at the very least, a few days. Which also meant that the Arrow would be gone. And, after all the work that the vigilante archer had been doing recently, he knew that he couldn't afford a lull in activity. The city's criminal element would almost certainly take that as an opportunity to pick up where they had left off, and things would be right back at square one. And, if he wanted to stop that from happening, then there was only one person that Oliver could turn to.

Pulling open one of the drawers of the filing cabinet nearest to him, Oliver reached in and grabbed the flip phone that rested within. Diggle nodded at the sight, clearly understanding what the other man was doing. Tapping several of the buttons in a pattern that he had burned into his memory almost as soon as he had received the device, Oliver placed the phone by his ear, waiting as the call went through.

' _What?'_ The distorted voice asked through the phone, sounding faintly out of breath.

"We need to talk." Oliver said, getting straight to the point. There were still things that needed to be done if the team wanted to leave before anyone noticed in the morning, and he couldn't afford to waste any time.

' _I'm kind of in the middle of something.'_ Damocles sighed in exasperation. Oliver remained silent for a moment, quickly thinking things over.

"Where are you?" He eventually asked. A face-to-face would most likely be the better option, especially considering the delicacy of the situation. Never hurt to make sure, after all.

' _Rooftop on 47_ _th_ _and 5_ _th_ _.'_ The skull faced vigilante replied after several moments of hesitation. _'Opposite the pink neon arcade sign. Trust me, you can't miss it.'_

"I'll be right there." Oliver ended the conversation, closing the line and placing the phone back in its spot. Moving towards the display mannequin that held his suit, he prepared to don the green ensemble for the second time that night, although this time with a hopefully less violent outcome. Part of him wondered what Starling's second vigilante was up to, but he pushed that thought aside. He needed to keep his priorities straight.

If the curiosity remained once he returned, he'd look into the shadowy man's actions in greater detail. For now, however, the safety of Starling City was his only concern, especially considering whose hands he was about to leave it in.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Finding and trapping the informant had, in Aidan's opinion, been almost pitifully easy.

The bar had been simplicity itself to find. Even if he hadn't been given the address by Sin, and if he hadn't already heard of the place before, the muffled music and ceaseless noise of drunks, either trying to sing along or imitate a bunch of drowning cats, instantly drew him to the disreputable establishment. Something of an understatement, in all honesty, considering the handful of riots and murders that had taken place or originated in and around the bar, along with the suspicions of gang activity and a multitude of others. It honestly amazed Aidan how the place hadn't been shut down long ago, even _with_ the number of corrupt cops in the city. Still, that was a matter for another night, although his 'chat' might help to nullify this criminal influence somewhat.

Based on what he was planning, he doubted that many of tonight's patrons would be willing to come back for another night of drinks anytime soon.

In truth, the only issue had come from the timeframe Aidan had been given to work in. According to Sin's estimates, their guy would be leaving in approximately half an hour. It had taken him fifteen minutes to suit up, travel to the bar and find a suitable vantage spot. Another five had been consumed by setting up his trap, with the unexpected call from the Arrow doing nothing but slowing his task and adding further concern over the time he had left to wait. Still, the last ten minutes had thankfully managed to pass by slowly, giving Aidan a chance to check his gear over, confirm the effectiveness of his trap, and prepare for the double event of the informant's dawning appearance, although a few minutes could feasibly be added on depending on exactly _how_ drunk the man was, and the visit from Starling's very own archer. Whatever boredom had managed to arise in him was almost completely eradicated by the anticipation that easily dwarfed everything else.

Crouched on the edge of the roof, a repurposed RC car remote in his hands as his eyes darted between the area of sidewalk outside the bar and the metal frame protruding from the circular tower over his head, Aidan sensed more than heard the almost silent arrival of Starling's first vigilante, only the quiet whisper of air giving away the man's sudden appearance.

"You wanted to meet." He called out, although his eyes never left their focus on the street below, where his trap was waiting for the right moment to be triggered. "Why?"

"Call it professional courtesy." The Arrow responded. Aidan would have heard more, had someone not stepped out of the bar at that very moment. His sharp eyes spotted the long, greasy hair that Sin had shown him in the photos held in the police files. That and the squat shape of the man made it very clear. The informant had finally made an appearance.

"Hold on." He stopped his fellow vigilante's explanation, focus now entirely on where his trap waited, remote held tight in hand. The man took a stumbling step forward, and Aidan twisted the dial on the remote, which in turn activated the small but powerful winch above his head. The long line of cable, leading down to the almost invisible loop on the stone sidewalk, was quickly dragged up, tightening the noose around the informant's foot. A sharp, rather pig-like squeal came from the man as he was suddenly yanked upside down, dangling by one ankle as the winch pulled him up at an incredible speed for its relatively small size. Aidan brought the momentum to a halt when the man was a few stories below the lip of the roof, suspended under the jutting metal pole from the building's water tank like an inverted gallows. Maybe a few minutes of airborne terror while the two vigilantes spoke would convince him to spill his guts with greater ease. And if it didn't… well, Aidan wasn't exactly pressed for time. He could be patient.

"Now then," he returned to his previous conversation, "what's this about 'professional courtesy'?"

The Arrow remained silent for a few seconds, shifting on his feet slightly. Finally, he spoke. "I'm going to be out of town for the next few days. It should only be a few days, and while I have no doubts about your work, I want to ask that you keep a sharper eye over the city until I get back."

Whatever he had been waiting for the Emerald Archer to say, it had certainly not been that. Aidan was shocked into silence for at least a full ten seconds, thankful that the mask covered his gaping jaw. At last, speech managed to return to him. "Why?" He croaked out, the word barely legible through his modulator.

"After some recent encounters, it won't take certain criminal groups long to figure out I'm missing. Even if it's only for a night or two, I will not risk any of them retaking a foothold in my absence."

"No, I mean-" Aidan blurted out, his mind swiftly catching up with his tongue. He took a deep breath before starting again, with a bit more sense. "Why tell me? Our previous work hasn't exactly led to any kind of obligation like this. Besides, even if anyone does take a step or two forward while you're gone, you could handle them yourself on your return without me even knowing you went anywhere." While this might have been a bit much, Aidan's words getting away from him for a second, every single one of them was true. The Arrow was still largely a mystery to him, even after the times they had worked together and even though he had met more of his allies. And, if only one thing about the bow-wielder had been made clear, it was that Aidan couldn't hope to match him in their work. He was better equipped, had far more experience, and, even with all that he knew, Aidan understood as basic fact that, if the two ever fought, he would be hard pressed to even draw, never mind win. The fact that the tested vigilante had entrusted him with this knowledge, not to mention placed the protection of Starling City in his hands, was a huge leap of trust between the two of them that, honestly, left Aidan slightly dazed.

"You've proved yourself to be a trustworthy and capable ally several times over." The Arrow explained. "That's more than enough for you to be made aware of this. You clearly love this city, and Sara Lance speaks very highly of you." Aidan felt the vigilante's eyes bore into his own. "I know I can count on you to do what must be done for Starling."

Aidan just nodded sharply. "I'll do what I can." He promised. The Arrow simply nodded in return, apparently satisfied with the agreement, before turning and vanishing over the side of the building. Aidan stared at the now-empty air for a second, before turning back to his trapped target. The man's screams had started to quieten down to whimpers by this point, and Aidan needed to act fast before the informant either passed out or regrew his spine.

Picking up the remote from where he had discarded it, Aidan twisted the dial sharply, causing the cable to drop rapidly. He waited a second before twisting it once more, this time retracting the line all the way up to his own level. Another shock would help to break through whatever resistance the informant might have built back up in his wait. It also had the benefit of shaking the man free from the slowly-encroaching shadows that accompanied being suspended upside down for too long, making him once more fully aware of his position, roughly thirty metres above the city. His head jerked around from side to side as he slowly rotated around to face his captor, clearly looking for a way out of his predicament. The young vigilante couldn't help but smirk at the look of shock and, far more importantly, fear that blossomed on the upturned face, complete with widened eyes and frozen movements, reminiscent of a rabbit in the headlights.

"Where are they." He asked calmly, keeping his growl low and monotone. If anything, that seemed to scare the man more than shouting would have.

"W-what? W-w-who?" The criminal asked, drunkenness mixing with fear to stutter his words.

"The people you helped kidnap." Aidan responded instantly, fire slowly leaking into his words. It was one of the first interrogation tactics Sara had taught him. Don't give your target time to think of a lie. Press your case, until you had squeezed them for everything they had.

Unfortunately, that didn't always work. "I don't know what you're talking about." The man argued, sobriety from terror washing away any loose words that might have been gained in his former drunken state. "I didn't do anything like that."

"You promise?" Aidan asked, making a show of considering the words to be true. The man nodded rapidly.

"Yeah, man. I swear on my mother's grave." Aidan nodded slowly.

"In that case," he said, hands behind his back as his fingers graced the dial, "you best be ready to join her!" He shouted the last words as his fingers twisted hard, the cable supporting the man going slack faster than would have been thought possible. The man screamed as he raced down, the sidewalk getting closer and closer with every fraction of a second. Aidan only took his hand away at the last second, and he glanced down to see where his rat was. From the shadow, the man was only inches away from becoming a fresh helping of pavement pizza. He could hear the quiet sniffles from the roof, as the criminal struggled to comprehend how close he had come to meeting his maker.

Another twist, and the man was back up in a few seconds, skin white as a sheet as he looked at the vigilante, who had now lost control of his anger.

"Listen, you piece of scum." Aidan growled, reaching behind with his free hand and slowly drawing the League knife Sara had gifted him with. "You are going to tell me where your friends are hiding the girls. You're going to tell me how many there are, who they're supplying them to, and you're going to tell me right now!"

"And if I don't?" The criminal asked brazenly, his brush with death somehow granting him a level of resistance. Aidan grinned beneath his mask, and the man flinched, sensing the danger he had put himself in.

"Then I leave you hanging here until your organs suffocate you." He growled cruelly, fingers gliding over the blade of his knife. "Or, I could just cut the cable, let you fall all the way down." A flash of steel, and the man moaned as blood began to stick his sock to his leg, just below the cable holding him up. Aidan watched the knife as it flew, finally disappearing on the lower roof across the street. He'd get it when he was done. "I just feel sorry for whoever has to clean you up. From this height, it would be quite a splatter."

"A-alright, alright!" The man begged, eyes widening almost comically. "W-what did you want to know?"

"WHERE ARE THE GIRLS!" Aidan roared, rushing towards the man to bellow the words right in his face.

"They're in an old house on Brooks and 10th!" The man screamed, terror flashing across his eyes. "In the basement. The boss is shipping them off in two days."

"How many men are there?" Aidan spat.

"About a dozen." The informant quickly said.

"Weapons?"

"Clubs and pistols, nothin' heavy." Aidan leaned back slowly, eyes never leaving the squirming man. "That's everything I know, I swear it!"

"Your co-operation has been greatly appreciated." Aidan thanked the man, before turning and heading towards the opposite ledge.

"Hey! Let me down!" The man shouted at him. "I told you what I know, didn't I?"

"You did." Aidan agreed. "But I never said I'd let you go if you did." He stayed for a second longer, enjoying the look of horror and realisation that dawned on the man, before dropping down to the fire escape just below the ledge. He'd drop an anonymous call to the cops once he'd retrieved his knife, the guy would be in a cell within the hour. And something told him that he wouldn't have to worry about the other 'guys' finding out. After what Aidan had done, he'd be surprised if the man could look out a second story window again.

Still, there was no time to consider what lay in store for his informant now. The girls would be gone in two days, and, thanks to the added responsibility the Arrow had given him, Aidan would have to move fast. But right now, all he wanted was sleep.

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"Queen! You got a visitor."

Moira looked up from where she sat in her cell, book in her hands slowly being lowered to her lap, as her mind quickly processed the guard's words. It wasn't as though visits were an uncommon occurrence for her in and of themselves. Once the pair had gotten over the anger one held towards the other, Thea had been coming in at least once a week, most of the time twice. After the five months where she hadn't seen or heard the slightest trace of either of her children, a time that had pushed her close to madness, despite fully understanding the reason behind the absences, these visits were a welcome reprieve from both Iron Heights itself, and the trial that loomed over her. Still, Thea had visited her yesterday, and the young heiress had yet to visit her mother two days in a row.

Unless, Moira thought, as she placed her book down and rose, her message had gotten through faster than she'd anticipated. It had been a long shot, in all honesty, and one that she hadn't expected to work.

"Who is it?" She asked the guard, a polite curiosity hiding the anticipation in her words. If it was who she thought it was, what came next should turn out to be interesting. If it was related to her court case… well, she'd sat through enough meeting about the event to know what to expect.

"Someone called Aidan Maddox." The guard replied, used to this particular high-profile inmate after just over half a year of incarceration. "Said he got a message to come meet you. Young guy, kinda lanky. Sound familiar?"

"As a matter of fact, he does." Moira agreed, the man's, admittedly vague, description in keeping with what Thea had told her. "Shall we?" The guard nodded, gesturing for her to hold out her arms before doing anything. Moira did so, the cold steel of the handcuffs a familiar weight on her wrists as they clicked into place, before following the burly man out of her cell and along the familiar path towards the visitor's centre.

As the pair walked, watched by other guards and security cameras on their journey, Moira used the time to process the thoughts rattling through her mind. The meeting that would be taking place in a few minutes had been in planning for roughly a week, the idea first coming to her when Thea had shown up with news of her 'friend' being released from hospital, after taking a nasty sounding stab wound. It had been a combination of the relief in her daughter's voice, along with the glimmer in her eyes, one that was growing more familiar and only seemed to appear when the topic turned to Mr Maddox, that had sown the seeds in the former CEO's mind. Well, that and the latest news from Jean about the upcoming trial.

She wasn't going to lie to herself. Moira knew that the chances of her being found innocent by the judge in the near future were miniscule to none. While she herself hadn't taken any _direct_ part in Malcolm's Undertaking, she had still supplied him with money for the operation itself. She was an embezzler, one that, after the attacks on the members of the List and Merlyn's death at the hands of the Hood, could present a convenient scapegoat to all those that had been affected on that terrible night. 503 people were dead, crushed beneath the buildings of the Glades in an attack that had failed to do anything besides make the district even worse than it had been before. Moira already felt the weight of the casualties on her ever since the number had been announced, a weight that had pushed her down and forced tears from her on more than one occasion. The people of the Glades hated her, hated her for the hundreds dead and the thousands injured, hated her for destroying their businesses, their homes, their very lives. Crime and poverty had both spiked in the area in the months following the destruction, and Moira couldn't find anything wrong in the statement that it was all her fault. The city had been hurt, and now they wanted to inflict some of that pain on the one who, in their minds, had played a key role in their suffering.

And, honestly, if it hadn't been for the pleas of both Thea and Oliver, her two beautiful children, Moira would have been more than happy to let events proceed as they seemed ready to. She was not a good person, she could admit that to herself. After everything she had done to maintain her family, and the occasional fall from clarity, there was no possible way she could argue that she was undeserving of the bile being thrown at her, both metaphorically and literally. And, despite what the younger Queens argued and shouted, she knew that, just by glancing at a newspaper, she would likely not live to see the city restored to what it had been before, that was if she even lived to see the end of the year. Donner was evidently determined to see her fry, most likely so he could add another success to his career and ascend to whatever level of corruption followed his current one.

But, she didn't care. If she was going to die, as all signs indicated, she would at least do so with dignity. Which meant, leaving all of her affairs in order. Bringing her back to what awaited her at the end of this hallway.

Once the short walk had been brought to an end, and once yet another quick search to ensure she wasn't about to pull a badly made knife on anyone, the guard leading her opened the door ahead, and she walked through, eyes darting around for a second before settling on the lone man seated at the nearest table, head resting against his hand as one leg bounced up and down.

Aidan Maddox was not quite what Moira had been expecting, at least in terms of looks. From Thea's description, she had expected something out of a romance novel, the tall, dashing gentleman that she had read about over and over again in school. The man before her… well, he _was_ tall. Thin, although his jeans and slightly too large hoodie didn't exactly provide an accurate indication, with long fingers that tapped against his cheek as he waited. A cropped mop of dark hair sat atop his head, while his hazel eyes seemed unfocused, showing a depth that Moira felt slightly unnatural for a man his age. A narrow face and sharp features rounded off the package, with lightly tanned skin that, unlike many men in their twenties she had seen, seemed to have never been touched by spots or acne while growing up. Overall, he wasn't far off her daughter's description, and the younger woman's clear, if slightly confused on her end, affection for the man made sense to the cautious mother.

The closing of the door managed to break the man from his stupor, and he looked up quickly, eyes flitting to land on Moira in an instant. He rose from his spot, back straightening slightly as he waited for her to approach.

"Thank you for meeting me here today." Moira began, taking a seat at the table with a practised ease that had come from years of social manoeuvring. The man sat too, although in a way that highlighted the slightly nervous current that ran through him. "I didn't think you would come on such short notice."

"Well, it's not everyday I get an invite from a prison," Aidan replied, the lightness of his tone hiding his true confusion and nerves with a fair bit of success. "Especially not from the mother of my friend."

"Yes, well, after what my daughter has told me of you, I figured that I just had to meet you for myself." Moira explained, laying out the reasoning behind his 'summons'. If anything, though, that just seemed to confuse him more.

"I can't help but wonder why, though. I mean, I'm not exactly anything special." Moira shook her head lightly at the humble words.

"You have managed to bring a smile to Thea's face with just the mention of your name." She informed him. "Such a feat in itself is worthy of an introduction." She held in her laughter at the blush the words brought to Aidan's face.

"We're just friends." He said quickly, a little too quickly from the rushed nature of his words. Moira stayed silent for a moment, quietly enjoying the sight of the young man squirming slightly under her gaze. At last, she showed mercy.

"Whatever you are, or are not, you don't have to justify it to me." She calmed him. "I just wanted to take the opportunity to get to know my daughter's newest friend a little better. After some of the ones she's had in the past, forgive me for being a little cautious."

"Yeah, she's told me about them." Aidan sighed, seeming to forget who he was talking to. "Can't exactly imagine the two of you saw eye-to-eye when it came to that lot."

"Exactly." Moira agreed. "And, regardless of my current situation, I am still her mother." She allowed the ghost of a grin to grace her lips when the young man's eyes widened slightly at the statement. "Which means that I am fully within my right to vet those she decides to have close to her. Can't have any _repeats_ now, can we?"

"Hope not." Aidan agreed quickly, although he had seemed to calm down a fair bit from when she had first laid eyes on him.

"Well then, now that the introductions are out of the way, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" Moira began, careful to show her genuine interest in the matter. She hadn't been lying when she'd said that she had disapproved of Thea's more destructive friends. Not the nicest bunch, and yet another symbol of how far her relationship with her daughter had crumbled in those five years. This Aidan seemed to be a far better replacement, but still. You could never be too careful.

"What do you want to know?" He asked easily, leaning back in her seat as he adopted a more comfortable position.

"Whatever there is to know." Moira explained. "How is your family, what do you do, things of that nature."

"If you insist." Aidan acquiesced, and Moira's eyes were quick to notice the almost invisible barrier that had been erected in the young man's own. "Although I'm not the most interesting of people."

Over the next few minutes, Moira listened as Aidan laid out his life for her. He spoke of his bar, a clear note of pride in his voice on the matter, and of his friend Sin, the familial love that connected the two impossible not to see, even for a blind man. Moira directed his words with a few carefully crafted questions here or there, looking to find out as much as she could. Partly due to her motherly tendencies that had managed to shake off the years of neglect they had gone through, partly due to her own curiosity, and partly as a chance to alleviate the boredom she had been feeling for hours. Who knew prison could be so dull? Even _she_ had her limits. Still, it was enjoyable to hear the man talk of his sister, although she couldn't help but notice the lack of details involved. And, what of his other family? His parents? There didn't seem to be a single mention of them.

What was more interesting, however, were Aidan's eyes as he spoke. Through most of his monologue, they had been a mixture of pride, love and happiness, a golden trio that had helped to bring a warm feeling to Moira. Now, however, with the mention of his family, things had changed, and drastically too. The hesitation before he began indicated that, had she not been Thea's mother, she doubted that he would have even begun to speak. And, whereas before there had been joy, now there was a darker combination of sadness, grief, guilt, and, flaming above them all, anger. These were pushed down, in the corner of the man's expression as he tried to hide the raw emotions, but Moira was too well trained, although that couldn't stop her confusion. How could such a topic inspire such disturbing feelings? One thing was certain, however. She would not want to be in the way of Aidan Maddox and whoever had managed to cultivate such a cloud of emotions.

At last, the words came to a halt, and Moira watched as Aidan seemed to struggle to come to grips with what had just happened. She couldn't blame him. He had just told a complete stranger, despite her connection to Thea, his life story, and his look of surprise was as though the guard in the corner of the room had started doing the Macarena.

"Thank you for that, Aidan." Moira spoke up, eager to spare the young man from whatever jumbled thoughts must have been going through his mind. "It is nice to know that Thea has such a responsible friend looking out for her."

"No problem." Aidan replied, looking slightly lost for a second before his eyes hardened, not in a cruel way but more out of determination. "Now, I was wondering if you could answer me a question." At her nod, he continued. "Why ask me all this? Why invite me here in the first place? And," he continued, as Moira began to open her mouth, "I'd like the full answer this time."

Moira sighed, irritated but not altogether surprised that the man had seen through her exterior. If nothing else, he was clearly in possession of a sharp mind.

"My trial is in a week's time." She stated calmly, something that most others would be unable to do when faced with the same thing. "And, while I'm not as up to date on the city as others, it does seem the general consensus that I am to be found guilty. I doubt even my lawyer can argue that fact with any true effect." Aidan's face morphed gently into that of someone in deep thought, although Moira didn't stop in her explanation. "If such a thing does come to pass, then I'll be damned if I leave my children without someone there to take care of them. My son will be fine on such a front, but _Thea_ will most likely not. And, given the high regard she holds you in, I hope you can understand my desire to see that she will have someone with a good head on their shoulders to watch out for her once I am gone." The two fell into silence for a minute once she had stopped talking, the older woman watching her companion while the young man appeared to be running over a multitude of thoughts simultaneously, eyes dropped to stare at the table between them.

At last, he looked up. "I guess I should say thank you for thinking of me in such a positive light." He began slowly, as though he were picking every word with the utmost care. "And I promise, if you _do_ lose, I'll do everything I can to keep your daughter safe." The unsaid _and happy_ was clear in his tone. "But, I mean, are you _so sure_ you'll lose?" At the inmate's look, he continued. "I mean, sure you were part of the plan, but what was your role? I doubt you would've told the city about the quake if you were one of the masterminds, and besides, you saved _thousands of people_ by doing so. That's got to cut you some sort of slack, doesn't it?"

Moira said nothing, although her mind was kicked into overdrive by the statement. She had never really thought of it like that. Her statement to the news companies hadn't been too far ahead of the event itself, but still, it must have done _something._ Otherwise, she was sure the casualty count would have been far higher than it was.

"I take it you've put some thought into this." She said to the man, intrigued as to why he would be defending her, even in this small meeting. She could count on one hand the number of people who believed her to be innocent, and two of the three were her own children.

"You saved my life with your broadcast." Aidan explained. "My sister's, too. Kinda hard to lay everything at your feet because of it. And I know there are others who feel the same. It's just a little hard to admit it when half the city seems ready to lynch anyone who disagrees with you as a mass-murdering psychopath."

"Well, even if there are silent supporters out there," Moira replied, "I doubt any will be in the jury when they pass their sentence. And I was a part of the plan for too long for any mercy to be shown to me."

"Maybe." Aidan agreed, although his word was half-hearted at best. He didn't even seem focused on what she had just said, drifting back into his mind as another idea looked to be taking over his head. He stayed in such a state for almost a minute, before shaking himself out of it and gesturing to the guard.

"Mrs Queen, thanks for inviting me here today." He said as he rose. "You've given me a lot to think about." Moira just sat in slightly shocked silence as he was led out the far door, the abruptness of his departure taking her by surprise. What had brought about such a reaction? If the look on his face was anything to go by, he had something planned, something that she honestly look forward to see come to fruition.

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If there was one thing about running Verdant that Thea deeply and truly loathed, it was the paperwork.

During the five years following the loss of the Queen's Gambit, she had visited more than her fair share of the city's nightclubs, much to the anger and then disappointment of her mother, and she had naively thought of the places as nothing more than alcohol, dancing and all-around fun for everyone involved. However, the truth about running one was a little bit deeper than that, and a fair deal more tedious. While the nights themselves were generally enjoyable, provided that no rowdy morons showed up to spoil things for everyone else, the long stretches that came before and after these deafening periods were taken up by a constant loop of cleaning up, preparing to start all over again, and a seemingly never ending pile of papers that she had to go through, connecting to employee payments, shipping in more supplies for the bar and reserves, keeping the place going in terms of electricity and water, and a thousand other areas of management that Thea hadn't known existed until they passed across her desk.

It was repetitive, boring and grating very close to soul crushing on some days, especially when she let her mind wander into unpleasant territories. However, there were times when it seemed a bit more bearable, times where she was able to focus on the task at hand in order to get it out of the way with far more speed. Or, like today, when her mind was slowly being infiltrated by far more pleasant thoughts. Like certain parts of her previous night.

Hanging out with Aidan had been one of the best times she had had in a very long time. The bar itself had played a large role in that. Whereas Verdant was permanently turned up to 11, the Centurion had a quieter, homier atmosphere that had managed to get her to relax, surrounded by friendly faces and gentle music, rather than the sea of strangers that made up her own club. And then, there was Aidan himself. While Roy managed to bring her a feeling of familiarity, and Oliver naturally helped to ease her mind as he big brother, there was just something…different about her slender friend. The humour, the calm, the agreement surrounding her mother, the sense of shared experiences. It had all surged together to form a kind of aura, a wave of comfort and peace that, honestly, Thea was unsure she had ever experienced. Certainly not before the loss of her father, at any rate. Whatever it was, though, she liked it. When their time had been cut short by Roy's arrest, something she was _still_ extremely pissed at him over, they had promised each other that they would do something like that again. And now, even after less than a day, Thea already found herself impatient, and hearing a quiet voice calling to her in the back of her mind.

 _Would it seem desperate to call him right now?_

Whatever the answer to that question, it was cast aside as Thea's ears picked up the ringing footsteps of someone walking towards her. Even amidst the low hum of employees preparing for the night ahead, the taps were unmistakable. Looking up, Thea was surprised to see Jean Loring, her mother's lawyer and old friend, heading across the club towards her.

"Ms Loring." She said, smiling towards the woman she rose to greet her. As a child, Thea had lost count of the number of times the woman had called at the mansion to visit her mother. Hugging the older woman, she pulled back to take her in. "Didn't take you for the club-hopping type."

"Well, I'm here on business." Jean said soberly, all traces of informality gone in an instance. Thea instantly felt her mind going into worry overdrive. The b-word only meant one thing. The trial.

"Is everything ok with my mom?" She asked immediately. With so little time before the big event, any error could prove fatal.

"We need to discuss something about the case." Jean explained, the serious look in her eyes taking their full force. "Your boyfriend Roy was arrested last night."

"Ex-boyfriend." Thea clarified quickly. That had managed to take the sting off of the events the night before, although the confusion was still there. Officer Lance, even with his past antagonism Thea still found it weird to think of him as that instead of Detective, had barely hesitated before letting Roy go, with an excuse that made her even more suspicious. Why had Roy been let go so easily, without even the slightest punishment? She couldn't exactly say it was a bad thing, just unexpected. "And yes, I know, but it was actually a misunderstanding." Her words didn't seem to calm Jean, however.

"Well, regardless of your relationship, a few reporters got hold of the story and they now know you're associated with a known felon, if not dating him." She told her. "I also took the liberty of looking in to your newest friends." Thea's shock at the statement managed to retain her indignation. She was her mother's lawyer, sure, but that didn't mean she got to drag her social life into the mix. Did it? "Aidan Maddox is connected with almost a dozen separate counts of theft and possession of stolen property, stretching back a decade. While none have been successfully proven, it won't take much of a stretch to portray him in the same light as Roy, should someone find out about this." Thea's silence continued at the revelation of her friend's backstory. Sure, he had told her that he had done a few scams to make money growing up, but nothing like _this._ What she had assumed to be a case of tricking a few gullible strangers out of a bit of cash was in fact a string of unproven cases of illegal activity, not too dissimilar to Roy. Jean took her lack of words as an excuse to press her case.

"Thea, your mother is on trial for her life. Her whole defence pivots on being seen as a loving mother who did what she had to do to protect her children, what kind of a parent she was. We need the people to know that she raised you to make good decisions. So, if you care about your mom, you're going to have to separate yourself from these young men immediately."

As strong as the older woman's words were, Thea could see the logic. Even if she didn't want it to be the case, what she did would reflect on her mother. They had to prove that her mother's crimes were worth the damage wrought, which meant Thea being the kind of daughter that the people of the city could understand wanting to protect to this extent. Her past with booze and drugs was damaging enough on its own, but that could somewhat be linked to a runaway coping mechanism. This, however, was a result of her own choice, and would be a lot harder to refute should Donner pick up on it. Besides, it wasn't like it would actually hurt anyone. Roy was more trouble than he was worth these days, having been arrested twice in the space of a month and coming in day after day with a new bruise or injury. Thea had so far failed to break him out of this, despite him thinking her still oblivious. Maybe some time apart would be the wake up call he needed before he got himself killed. And Aidan…well, they'd only known each other for a few weeks, right? Surely, she could split from him while her mother's case was being judged. They'd be able to pick up where they left off afterwards, and the same with Roy.

As Jean turned to leave, Thea found herself coming around to the idea. If this was something she had to sacrifice to keep her mother from going back to prison, or an execution as Donner seemed far too eager in pushing for, then she'd do it. Roy and Aidan would understand, right? Friends were one thing, but when it came to family, some lines just had to be drawn.

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"So, what was the plan again?" Asked Sin from her chair, words muffled slightly as she spoke around the rather large piece of futomaki. Aidan sighed, turning to face his friend while pulling on his steel-toed boots.

"Go in through the roof, work my way down, free the girls and call the cops." He summarised, checking the laces before rising, pulling on his new jacket as he did so. "Our little rat's still festering in a cell, so they shouldn't be expecting me, and the girls aren't being moved until tomorrow, so there shouldn't be any extra guys there yet." He'd spent the better part of the day scoping out the place, watching carefully from as many different angles as he could. Even when he'd stopped to head to the prison in the afternoon, for a visit that had been playing over again and again in the back of his mind, he'd still been able to get a general idea for the temporary storage ground he was about to attack.

The building was a slightly run down one, a large house on the outskirts of one of the wealthier city districts that had been in disrepair for years. The Undertaking had managed to shake up the area a fair bit, the tremors resulting in more than one family vacating the area as soon and as fast as was possible. With three floors and a basement, it was the perfect hideout for any criminal gang. Even if they hadn't been stretched thin, Aidan doubted that the cops would have found them anyway. From the outside, there was not even the slightest indication as to what lay beneath the exterior shell, how many lives were close to being destroyed within.

"Are you sure about the numbers?" Sin asked again, a look of concern in her eyes. It was the same one she had whenever he went up against something neither of them were one hundred percent certain of. And Aidan could understand the feeling. During their younger years, if they couldn't trust something or someone wholeheartedly, it usually led to disaster when one of them drew too close. More than one day's work had been lost that way, along with several teeth on Aidan's part as he'd attempted, and failed, to defend their earnings.

"I'm sure." Aidan emphasised, doing what he could to calm his oldest friend down. "The rat said about a dozen, my recon said about a dozen, so it's about a dozen. Besides," he continued, picking up the extendable sticks, "if there are more of them, these should help." He gave the twin weapons a twirl, before placing them in his pockets. If tonight went well, they would see their fair share of use. And if it didn't… well, they were going be used either way.

"Don't forget these." Sin reminded him, picking up the two knives nearest to her. The League blade, and the stainless-steel claw. Moving over, Aidan grabbed both, sliding the larger of the two into his boot while the other was slid up his left sleeve. A quick deployment, should he need it.

Aidan quickly ran his hands over himself, checking to ensure he had what was needed. Weapons, untraceable burner phone, a handful of marbles should he need to distract anyone. While not a danger in their own right, he had seen how useful they were in drawing attention away from his position in the past. And, considering who he was about to go up against, deception and confusion would be essential if he were to succeed.

Reaching into the pocket of his jacket, Aidan tugged out his familiar mask, the white skeletal face on black grinning up at him, as it had for the past seven months. "Well then," he said, gripping the material and preparing to pull it over his head, "time to get to work."

He'd brought the mask about halfway to his face when his phone went off. Not the burner phone, not his phone to the Arrow, but his regular mobile. Staring at the device in confusion for a second, Aidan reached for it, mask dangling in one hand as he brought his mobile to his ear, checking for caller ID first. An unknown number.

"Hello?" He said, accepting the call and nestling the device between his head and shoulder.

" _Aidan?"_ A familiar voice said on the other end. _It's Roy."_

"Hey, Roy." He greeted the young man, silently wondering how he had got his number. While the two young men had been hanging out together with Thea and Sin occasionally, they had never exchanged numbers. Either out of forgetting to do so, or being distracted by something else.

" _Yeah, sorry to call."_ The red hoodie enthusiast began. _"Sin gave me your number, and I kind of need a favour."_

"Sure," Aidan agreed, shooting a slight look of accusation at the young woman beside him, "what can I do for you?"

" _It's Thea."_ Roy began. _"She's acting… a little weird this evening. She's been quieter than usual, and told me she can't be seen with me anymore. I think her mom's lawyer said something to her earlier. I was just wondering if you'd mind trying to talk to her. She won't say a word to me."_

Aidan frowned at the request. Or rather, at the reason behind it. What could Moira Queen's lawyer have said? The last time he checked, the personal life of the defendant's daughter, or at least who she chose to spend her time with, didn't have any relevance in the outcome of a trial for mass murder. Glancing at the time on the computer, Aidan quickly ran the numbers through his head.

"Sure, man, I'll be there in twenty minutes." He agreed to Roy's request, tilting his head to keep the phone in place as he tugged off his jacket, replacing it with one that gave off a slightly less 'illegal vigilante' vibe. He'd stop by Verdant on his way to the hideout, so he couldn't afford to look _too much_ like he was off to do something incredibly dangerous. The dark blue denim jacket he pulled on definitely didn't suggest anything of that nature.

" _Cool. Thanks again."_ Roy thanked him, before the line went dead. Aidan placed the phone back on the table.

"Change of plans." He told Sin, who looked like she already knew what he was about to say. Although, in fairness, she always looked like that. "I need to swing by Verdant quickly. Shouldn't be more than a few minutes." He continued explaining as he made his way towards the door leading towards the garage, and the motorcycle that waited for him inside.

"Alright, but don't be too long." Sin warned him, eyes following him as she continued picking at her dinner. "God knows what's happening to those girls."

"I'll be as quick as I can." Aidan promised, before turning and making his way swiftly towards the bike at the end of the short corridor. Shoving his jacket into the compartment beneath the seat, alongside his old batons, now merely spares, he pulled his helmet on and revved the small engine. Pressing a small button on the side of the motorbike, the wall ahead of him pulled apart down the middle, exposing the alleyway that the short ramp opened out on to. It was only a second before Aidan had raced through the opening, pressing the small button again the close the hidden hatch once more, before his focus returned to the road ahead of him, mind divided between gang attack and what might be going on with Thea.

It took about fifteen minutes of zipping in an out of traffic before he pulled up in front of Verdant, the nightclub now silent after the partygoers had finally stumbled home for the night. Placing his helmet on the seat, Aidan slowly made his way inside, his footsteps shifting from crunching on the gravel outside to tapping against the smooth floor of the club. The place was virtually empty by this point, the lights lowered as much as possible without being out. No one was there, the staff clearly having finished whatever clean up tasks they'd had for the night, although the glass windows of the General Manager's office were still alit with light, the shadow of someone moving about inside clearly visible. Watching the outline move for a moment, eventually coming to a rest where he knew the desk to be, Aidan made his way over, taking the stairs to the upper level slowly, careful to not make too much noise. It felt kind of strange to hear his feet clang softly against the metal steps in the silence, and it set his teeth on edge. Places like this were not meant to be this quiet. It just felt unnatural.

Eventually, he stood outside the door to the club's office, ajar and with the sound of rustling papers coming from the other side. Rapping his knuckle against the wood in a faint pattern, Aidan waited a second before pushing in, grinning to himself slightly at the momentary increase in noise from within, his introduction accidentally startling the unsuspecting young woman.

"Hi." Aidan said as he poked his head around, taking in the scene quickly. Thea sat at her desk, papers splayed out in front of her, relevant to the upkeep of the club most likely. Thea herself was bent over the surface, head supported in her hands as she looked up at him. There was something in her eyes, a sadness mixed with an almost painful regret, that caused his mind to stumble for a second. Never, not even in her darkest moments, had he seen such an expression on Thea Queen's face. Now he knew that Roy had been right, if not even sugar-coating things a little.

"What are you doing here?" Thea asked him, surprised at his appearance. Aidan shrugged.

"Can't I visit my friends every now and then?" He asked lightly. Thea's brow creased as she looked at him, demonstrating how much she believed him. Aidan sighed gently. "Roy asked me to come." He said, stepping in further, slowly closing in on the desk. "Said you've been acting a bit strange tonight."

Thea huffed. "Of course he did." She muttered under her breath. "Well, despite what Roy told you, I'm fine." She said louder. "Just got something knocking around my mind."

"Does it have anything to do with your mom's lawyer visiting?" Aidan asked. At Thea's look of surprise, he elaborated. "Roy told me that too. Said the two of you talked for a minute before you went all quiet."

"We were just talking about my mom's trial." She replied, a little too fast for his own taste and with a fair amount of annoyance in her tone. "That's it, nothing sinister there." It didn't take a genius to tell Aidan that something was missing.

"Look, Thea," he began, setting himself in one of the chairs opposite her desk, "I just want to make sure you're alright. With everything that's been going on recently, Roy and I just want to help."

That was the wrong thing to say. "Am I not allowed to have problems of my own anymore?" Thea asked loudly, sounding well beyond annoyed now. "Just because I don't tell you guys something immediately, you get all worried and worked up. There's nothing you can do to help with this."

"Then just tell me." Aidan insisted. "Thea, please, just tell me what this is about."

"Fine, you want to know?" She asked rhetorically. "Roy has been arrested twice in the last month, and apparently, a few reporters saw me go to bail him out last night. If word of that gets out, my mother's defence will fail. And you," she said, rising from her seat to move around the table, "you have a criminal record filled with suspicion around enough crimes to make Roy look almost squeaky clean." Aidan froze at this. Who had told her this? "If anyone in the case finds out how close I am to you, then my mother might as well wave goodbye to whatever defence she has." Thea moved towards the large window of the office, looking out over the empty club, while the young man just sat there, shocked into inaction.

"Jean pointed out to me that, until this case is over, the two of you are liabilities that I can't afford to have around me." She said quietly, almost forcing herself to admit the fact. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Roy. I need some room to breathe." Aidan rose from his seat at the words, staying almost silent as he moved nearer to his friend.

"Thea," he said quietly, staying a few feet behind her, "whatever this is, just know that I'm here if you need me." The woman's shoulders tensed, and Aidan moved away before she told him to go. He opened the door and walked through, pulling it closed behind him with a soft click.

Running his hands over his face, Aidan began to make his way back through the club, towards his bike. Truth be told, he didn't really want to leave. If it hadn't been for what he had to do that night, he knew that he would have stayed. Either in the office, or at one of the many seats in the club, at least _there_ for Thea, in some shape or form. Whatever was going on in her mind, whatever that lawyer had said to her to make her act like this, Aidan knew that it was hurting her. He had seen it in her eyes, heard it in her voice. Everything about their talk screamed at him to argue with her, to stay by her side regardless of what she said. But he couldn't. Not just because of the kidnap victims that needed him right now, and not just because he didn't quite trust Thea enough to believe she wouldn't start throwing things at him. The Queen temper was pretty much legendary in Starling, and something he had no desire to experience first hand just yet. As much as it tore him up inside to go, he knew that Thea needed to face this on her own. Win or lose, this was her choice to make, and he could only hope that she came to the right decision.

And if that failed, then he supposed a discreet word to Moira Queen wouldn't be unappreciated.

As he headed towards the doors, Aidan could feel a pair of eyes latched onto the back of his head, coming straight from the floor to ceiling glass of Thea's office. He forced himself to keep going, not turning his head even a fraction. He had already spent enough time here tonight, and he had to leave now. Or, quite frankly, he knew that, if he turned around to face the staring eyes, he wouldn't be able to leave.

The sharp drop in temperature as he stepped outside helped to snap away his inner conflict, and he stepped quickly towards his bike, pulling off the denim jacket as he did so. The night air was cold, with dawn still half a dozen hours away. More than enough time for what he needed.

Pulling out his thick leather jacket from the seat compartment, Aidan slipped it on, pulling the zip up to his neck and donning his mask from where he had left it in his pocket. Revving the bike's engine, he took off, loose bits of gravel flying up behind him as he raced through the near empty streets, buildings whizzing by as he headed for his target.

After what he had just been through, he had a lot of repressed anger and tension to work off. He just hoped there were enough thick-headed criminals there for him to get his fill.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The light from the naked bulb burned her eyes as she rested her head against the cold stone wall of the cell.

Nicole Davis let her gaze roam around the little prison she was in. It wasn't much, just three walls of a cellar and a row of metal bars fitted about halfway through the room, keeping the 'prisoners' stuck where they were. The only window was a narrow rectangle, set too high up to be readily available for any kind of use or escape, not that anyone would have been able to fit through the tiny gap. And, even if they were, the two men sat at the table just beside the door, guns forever visible on the wooden surface alongside the twin walkie-talkies, would quickly bring an end to any such effort.

There were about two dozen women in the makeshift prison with Nicole. Not a single trend was present that she was able to pick up, aside from their gender. The oldest was maybe just over thirty, a few years older than Nicole herself, while the youngest was a child, maybe six years old, who had been brought in with her mother. She could still remember the way the girl had wailed, unable to comprehend what was happening. Of course, the cries had trailed off eventually, due both to the soothing words of the mother and the growled threats of their kidnappers. Now, only the occasional sniffle came from the scared child. The pair of them had been brought in about five days ago, while Nicole had been trapped for nigh on two weeks. She hadn't been the first. About half of their current number had already been here when she was brought in, already quiet as they waited for the inevitable. And, given how the space could not possibly hope to take anyone else in, that fate was almost at hand.

"What's going to happen, mommy?" The little girl, Nicole remembered her mother calling her Fiona, asked quietly, the first sound she had made in almost a day. The fear in the words broke Nicole's heart, and she silently cursed whoever had brought her here. A child's life was about to be torn away from her, and nobody seemed to care.

"Nothing's going to happen." Her mother said calmly, although it was clear she wasn't too far from breaking. "We're going to be fine. I promise you."

One of the guards huffed at the words, looking up from where the two men were playing cards. "We got the right people are paid off, lady. No one's coming to find you." He mocked from his seat. "You lot are going to be far from _fine._ "

"Why are you keeping us here?" Another of the women asked, almost begging from where she leant against another sleeping woman. "Why take us if you're just going to lock us in here?"

"Because you're going to make us a lot of money." The other man said, standing from his seat and moving towards the cell. "We ship you off to a buyer, and we get fifty grand for each and every one of you." He grinned sadistically, leaning against the wall mere inches from the metal bars. "After that, you ain't our problem no more."

"I'll pay you." Another woman cried out desperately. "Please, if you let me go, I'll give you whatever you want. Double, even!"

The first guard shook his head. "No can do, girlie." He said mockingly, almost enjoying the way the girl deflated at the denial. "Someone's paying good money for you, and we can't risk you running off to the cops, now can we?"

"Although," the second man considered, pushing off from the wall to lean against the bars, "we might be able to set you up with one of the nicer gigs you're heading to, provided we can come to some kind of agreement." He peered lecherously into the group, and Nicole sneered in disgust when he looked her way.

"That is true." The first man agreed, the same looking sneaking onto his face. "Or, we could just do it anyways. Making sure the product is in working order, and all that." The two dozen women all managed to shuffle back at the words, terrified of whatever might come next. They knew that, if the guards decided to go down that path, none of them were strong enough to resist. Day after day with only scraps of food to eat and dirty water to drink, and even the whole lot of them wouldn't be enough to take down one guy, let alone God knew how many there were. Nicole's guess came to maybe a dozen, although there could easily be more.

Before any action could be taken, however, the walkie-talkies suddenly began to burst with sound, garbled chatter that made no sense to anyone. One of the guards huffed, before moving to pick up one of the devices.

"What is it?" He asked, sounding incredibly annoyed. Whoever was on the other end began to speak quickly, and Nicole's ears perked up at the sound. She couldn't make out all of it, but there were a few words that made their way through the static.

'… _someone here…took out Frankie…headed down…oh GOD!"_

Suddenly, there came sounds from upstairs, curving around the stone barrier that stood between the cell and the staircase, leading up. Nicole could only guess that there was a door in the way, blocking out the full experience of whatever was going on, but there were a few sounds that were almost universally known. Muffled shouts, crashing objects, and the unmistakeable _bangs_ of gunfire.

The captive women shrieked as the noises became much clearer almost a second later, the volume shift heralded by the smash of a door being opened. The guards darted for their guns on the table, while the cries of a fight came from above. One of the men edged around towards the stairs, ready to look up for any sign of what was going on. He was forced back, however, by the sudden appearance of another man, one of his colleagues, presumably, that came flying down the stairs, along with roughly half a door behind him. The third guard crashed to the ground, ricocheting off the far wall before hitting the solid stone floor, unmoving as the second guard nudged the crumpled shape with his boot. Nicole could see, through the legs of the table, the blood that covered the unmoving man's face, both eyes closed either in unconsciousness or a far more permanent state.

The guard nearest the stairs cursed loudly, before stepping onto the lowest step and raising his gun, firing wildly up towards where the attacker was. Nicole flinched as the gunfire ripped through the confined space. The man got off about half a dozen shots before he cried out in pain, dropping back as his gun clattered to the floor. A knife was sticking out of his shoulder, blood already oozing up around the blade and staining the shirt.

"Who's there?" The first guard shouted out, still safely away from the stairs. "Show your face you coward!" Nicole grinned slightly at the sight of the man shaking in fear, although this was quickly suppressed as the sound of heavy boots moving down the stairs caught her ears. Whoever had attacked the criminals had apparently finished with however many of them were upstairs, and was making his way down to the final level.

The guard's gun was aimed directly at the space where the stairs appeared from around the wall, both hands holding the weapon in an effort to keep it steady. Nicole held her breath as the footsteps grew louder and louder, following the sound as the mysterious attacker moved closer and closer towards them. Another second, and he would appear, right in the guard's line of sight.

"Watch out!" She cried out as a shadow appeared on the wall, startling those around her and herself at the outburst. The guard's head span around to look at her, fury blazing in his eyes, but it was enough. Something came spinning through the air almost as soon as she spoke, catching the light of the bulb as it slammed into the gun, or rather into the fingers holding it. The guard shouted in pain as he dropped the weapon, gripping his hand tightly under his elbow as both the weapon and projectile clattered to the ground. It was a pole, looking like the retractable design of a telescope or a selfie stick, with a circular weight on one end. Whoever it belonged to, they clearly knew their stuff.

Looking towards the stairs, Nicole sucked in a breath as the figure finally appeared. A man, dressed all in black and with a white skeletal grin covering his face. She had heard stories about someone like this, stories that dated from months ago to the night she was taken, about a man running around the Glades, protecting it in the aftermath of the Undertaking. Until now, though, she had brushed these off as nothing more than another urban legend, a story conjured up by the delusional in an attempt for their fifteen minutes of fame. Well, he was a legend alright, but far from a made-up fantasy.

The guard still on his feet rushed forward, charging the masked figure in an effort to take him unawares. The figure moved with the grace of a dancer, grabbing the man's flying fist and redirecting it, sending the guard spinning into the wall. This didn't seem to deter the criminal, as he tried again, this time with a punch aimed for the stomach. And now, it was clear that the vigilante was done playing games. Nicole watched in rapt fascination as he twisted the fist again, although in a tight lock instead of misdirection. A _crack_ , and the guard screamed in pain as his wrist was quite clearly broken. Reaching into a pocket on his trousers, the vigilante pulled out another pole, identical to the first one, and extended it, before slamming the circular tip in the guard's head. This cut off the screams in a second, as the guard collapsed to the ground, alongside his partner from upstairs.

Now, only the second guard remained. He had managed to pull himself upright while the attacker was distracted, and was scrabbling on the ground for his gun, knife still in his shoulder. He never even got close to the weapon, before the vigilante grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him up, before smashing him into the table. The wood splintered, and the figure picked up the last guard from where he lay among the remains, groaning in pain from being forced through the furniture.

"Who are you, man?" The guard asked, voice sounding pathetic compared to his tone before everything went south. "You come after our operation, you take out our guys. What the hell are you?!"

The masked figure lifted up the guard, letting his legs dangle uselessly in the air, before drawing him towards him.

"I'm Damocles." He growled dangerously, voice sounding like a demon straight from Hell as he spat the words right into the face of the terrified man. "And you're done." Moving forward sharply, he rammed the final guard's head against the metal bars that entrapped the women, the loud _clang_ rattling around the underground room before the limp body was dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

The women waited in silence as the figure knelt, reaching into the guard's pockets as though searching for something. He apparently failed to find it, as he rose, but not before pulling his knife from the man's shoulder and placing it in his boot, before stalking over to the other crumpled piles of criminals. Nicole watched along with the others as their mysterious saviour repeated the process with the remaining two men, not wasting time as he rooted through their bodies. Eventually, he stood and turned towards the barred section of the room, and Nicole's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the small key in his hand. This was it. The moment she had been praying for for almost two weeks.

A soft click of the lock, and the door swung open, although none of the women moved. The man was a rather intimidating sight, and he could hardly blame them if they were a bit slow to trust him. After a few seconds, however, one of their number moved. The little girl, Fiona, stepped away from her mother's slack embrace, stepping carefully towards the man. She paused when almost right in front of him, and he moved back, leaving the way clear for her to pass by. She did, but reached down almost immediately, picking up the collapsed pole that still remained on the ground. It was far larger in her small hands, and she was careful how she held it as she turned back, stopping again before the masked man and holding the weapon out to him, no sign of fear anywhere on her face.

The man slowly lowered himself to one knee, and reached out carefully with one hand to take the extendable baton. As soon as the weapon had left her grasp, little Fiona, the tiny six-year-old girl, rushed forward, barrelling into the man and wrapping her small arms around his waist. Nicole saw the girl's mother tense up at the sight, clearly snapping back to reality and worrying about what might happen next. The vigilante didn't move for a second, although the look of surprise was clear in his exposed eyes. After a moment, however, his free hand was carefully placed around the girl's shoulders, holding her against him even as his little fan snuggled herself against him further.

Slowly, the rest of the women began to unfreeze, moving closer to their rescuer at this silent sign of consent. Nicole stood as the man rose to his full height, although his former sinister appearance was ruined somewhat by the little girl that refused to let go of him, still cradled in one arm.

"The police will be here soon." He said, voice still unnatural sounding but almost the exact opposite of threatening now. "Let's get you lot out of here." And, turning, he began to move, stepping over the downed criminals as more and more of the former prisoners followed, eager to return to the real world once again, to feel the clean air of the night on their skin.

Neither Nicole nor this 'Damocles' noticed the small, dark haired woman amidst the throng of others making their way out. And neither noticed the laminated press pass in the breast pocket of her jacket.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Two days after the rescue, every newspaper in Starling had the same article splashed right across page one, with the entire city reading about the emergence of yet another shadow in the mists.

 _ **Damocles: Guardian of the Glades.**_

 _ **By Bethany Walsh**_

 _Last year, Starling City became home to the murderous vigilante known as the Hood. This individual was responsible for approximately 60 people, and targeted a high number of this city's most rich and powerful. And, while a number of scandals and crimes were exposed through these actions, the police never gave up their pursuit of this dangerous man, intent on either brining him in or taking him down. During the terrible events of the Undertaking, there were eyewitnesses that reported seeing a green-hooded figure run into a collapsing building, circulating the rumour that the archer had met his maker in the destruction. These reports, however, have recently been proven false, although no one can yet account for the vigilante's absence in the months following this atrocity._

 _But, while one man seemingly fell to the flames, it appears that another began to rise._

 _There have been reports of a man in a skull mask springing up across the Glades ever since that terrible night, while criminals are often found beaten and bloodied in the alleyways and other dark corners of this damaged district. The victims of these undesirables have all been pushing the same story of salvation, of a man in dark clothing appearing from nowhere to save them, before vanishing into the night. The number of supposed witnesses to this man numbers today at close to fifty, while the reports of criminals trussed up like hams has well surpassed one hundred. And, until recently, these reports have been brushed off as nothing more than delusions, a shared story to try and frighten away those that might prey on the weak and hurt._

 _However, all that changed two night ago, as police were called to the scene of a large human trafficking operation, being run out of an abandoned house in the east of the city. First responders found a total of twenty-six women, this reporter included, who had been held hostage for a number of days, weeks in some cases. The kidnappers have since been arrested and sentenced, although some remain in hospital after sustaining serious injuries. And, from the mouth of each of these kidnapped women, who might have vanished from the face of the earth had they not been found, came the same story of a man in black, with a while skull mask, appearing to liberate them in their time of need._

" _It was freaky." One woman, who wishes to remain nameless, states. "One minute we were alone, and the next he appeared, kicking the s*** out of our captors and opening our prison. It was like something out of a comic."_

 _Another witness, Donna Campbell (28), agrees. "He saved our lives that night. I don't want to think about what might have happened to us if he hadn't shown up. Just the memory of that place is enough to give me nightmares."_

 _And, how could one forget the excited words of little Fiona Rogers (6). "He was cool! He fought the bad men and let us out of the smelly room."_

 _There has been no official statement from either the Mayor's office or the SCPD about the matter as of yet, but there are already murmurs across the city concerning the appearance of a new vigilante, with the pros and cons of such being hotly debated online. What his intentions are can only be guessed, but officials are saying that a more thorough investigation will be organised before any conclusions are drawn._

 _Whatever the outcome of this, it is clear that the people of the Glades, and indeed the people of Starling, now have a new hero in their midst. Whether he maintains this image or not waits to be seen, but this reporter would like to offer a heartfelt thank you to the vigilante now known as Damocles. For the first time in far too long, people can breathe easy in the knowledge that, even in these dark times, there is someone watching over them._

Sin had been unable to stop laughing when she had first seen the paper. There were already chat rooms and sites on the internet, dedicated solely to the vigilante Damocles. Opinions were flying left, right and centre when it came to her friend, with some calling him a protector while others labelled him just another lunatic. She had spent the better part of the morning drawling through these, laughing herself silly at the conspiracy theories that some people were coming up with. She hadn't seen Aidan yet; the man had vanished the night before with only a short text to explain his absence. Still, Sin found herself almost shaking with excitement as she scrawled through yet another theory about how Damocles was the secret apprentice to the Hood, counting down the seconds to when she next saw her friend.

Aidan's reaction to this whole thing was something that she couldn't wait to see. Besides, after the way he'd been moping since freeing the women, it might help cheer him up.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Thea made her way towards the visitor's area of Iron Heights, body once again on autopilot as thoughts flitted around her head like fireflies. Everything that had been happening over the last few days seemed to be choosing this very moment to well up again inside her, and it was steadily building up to the point where it would prove uncontainable, where Thea felt she might actually scream. Although, in fairness, it wasn't like anyone would be able to blame her for doing so. Some days, she felt like she had a fair few similarities with Atlas, supporting the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Ollie had gotten back from his 'trip' yesterday. Apparently, there had been a bit of Queen Consolidated business in Russia that he had needed to attend to, so he had jetted off with his secretary, bodyguard, and the other co-CEO of the company. The return was nice, but in a rather bittersweet sort of way. Thea was happy to have her brother back again, elated even. He was perhaps the only other person in the entire city who could fully understand how she felt right now about the impending trial. But still, she was beginning to get tired of her brother's antics as of late, the same ones he had brought with him on his return from his five years on an island in the North China Sea. Constantly being late to where he was needed or simply not showing up, coming up with the worst excuses possible for his behaviour, and, as highlighted by recent events, vanishing at the drop of a hat. His little _jaunt_ around Europe had left her all alone, with the mother she had until recently despised behind bars and a city that seemed to think her guilty of the same crimes by association, helpfully ignoring the fact that she hadn't even been old enough to vote for the vast majority of Malcolm Merlyn's plan. Still, like mother like daughter, she assumed Starling's stupid logic went. This most recent escapade of the former-Playboy Queen felt to be the beginning of yet another year of the trend, one that Thea didn't like the look of. After all, the last time Ollie had left Starling, he had ended up being lost to the ocean for half a decade. And, while Thea had grown… _independent_ in that time, she still needed her brother with her, especially at times like this.

And then, of course, came her social hiatus. It had only been a few days, but already Thea was beginning to regret her decision. Jean had made it sound so logical at the start, at least to her ears. Her mother's case was already dangling precariously over a guilty sentence, meaning that anything she did had the possibility of weighing into this, especially considering the basis of their defence. And, while she wasn't currently dating either of them, both Roy and Aidan could easily prove a liability to this. Thea's time with the former was hardly a secret to anyone who did even the bare amount of digging, while the latter could easily step over the line from casual acquaintance to something more, if she wasn't careful, and thereby opening him up to scrutiny. No, for the sake of her mother's _life_ , she needed to put a break on things. While the trial was going on certainly, and that was only if they would even accept whatever apology she could provide after all of this had blown over. Thea had done everything she could do to drive them away, and, considering Roy's absence from the club the night before and no sign whatsoever of Aidan, her work had not been in vain. At the time, she had firmly believed that what she was doing was right, a necessary sacrifice for the survival of her family.

Now though? She could barely think of the events of that night without her stomach twisting itself up in painful knots.

Add to these confusing jumbles of thoughts and emotions the tale of a new vigilante surfacing in the city, and Thea's mind became a veritable quagmire of mental processes, all fighting for space. Doing what she could to shake the mess away, she walked into the visitor's area of the prison, before stopping abruptly at the sight before her.

Her mother was sat at one of the many metal tables, talking to both Roy and Aidan, who sat side by side opposite her.

"Wh-what are you- what are you two doing here?" She stammered in surprise and shock, her brain switching from amazement and confusion to near-total meltdown in the space of a second. The occupants of the table turned to look at her almost as one. Roy looked almost as confused as Thea, while her mother had a familiar sad smile on her face. And Aidan? He just grinned at her, one hand wiggling in a small wave. At least the gesture helped to calm her down somewhat.

"Good question." Roy replied. "I've gotten a lot of calls from prison, but never from my ex's mother."

"Nice to have a change, though." Aidan remarked in agreement, his wide grin settling down into a slightly more bearable one, although the warmth never left for a moment. "And, not a bad first experience, if I do say so myself." Her mother smirked slightly, sadness draining away somewhat.

"It occurred to me that I've never been given the opportunity to meet some of the less undesirable friends in your life." She said lightly. Thea thought she saw the corner of Aidan's mouth twitch up for a second, but she couldn't be sure.

"I don't know if she told you, bur your daughter kind of bailed on us." Roy said, rather bluntly, and Thea winced slightly at the harsh reminder of the actions that had caused her so much confusion and pain in such a short space of time.

"Quite a surprise, too." Aidan added, fingers dancing across the metal surface of the table. "Really just came out of nowhere." He sounded different now, the humour almost gone from his words and replaced with a quiet pain, one that shook Thea's resolve over the situation.

"I'm afraid that's not quite the case." The Queen matriarch revealed to the two young men. "What the both of you should know is that she did it for me." Thea felt her mother's eyes move back to her. "Jean told me she came to see you. I told her she shouldn't have."

Roy stood and turned to face Thea. "Why didn't you just tell me the truth?" He asked, still clearly hurt at being left in the dark. An indignant noise came from behind the red hoodie enthusiast, and he rolled his eyes. "Tell _us,_ I mean."

"Me being connected to either of you…Jean said that someone might…it could hurt her case." Thea said, stumbling over her words as she tried to explain. It was only then, when she said it out loud, that the ridiculousness of the plan struck her. The words practically died on her tongue, as though they refused to play a part in the lameness of her excuse.

"As terrible as that explanation is," Aidan said, having moved from his spot to now perched on the table with his feet balancing him with the bench, "you still could've told us. We're big boys, Thea We can take it." His words were soft and understanding, but even so, she almost felt like crying at the realisation of what she had done. Roy had stood by her through thick and thin, even in the weeks following their breakup, while Aidan had been nothing but supportive of her. And she had come _so close_ to just throwing that all away.

"Thea, your social life is not going to be the determining factor in my trial." Her mother said, taking Thea's hands in her own and squeezing lightly. "Sweetheart, what you've had to endure this last year is more than most people go through in two lifetimes. But you've not only survived, you've flourished. I think a lot of that has to do with Roy. And, although you've known him for far less, just looking at you tells me how much good Aidan has done for you." She said, nodding towards the two men watching on. "So, as your mother, I forbid you to separate yourself from them." She said in a mock-stern voice, and Thea couldn't help but laugh. It was like a weight had been lifted off her chest at the words.

"Thank you." She said, hugging her mother. And, in truth, that was all that needed to be said. She held the older woman tightly for several long moments, before slowly pulling apart. Turning slightly to face two of her closest friends, she felt a knot form in her throat. "Guys, I-I'm so sorry about what I said. I just…" She trailed off, unable to find the words needed to explain herself.

"Oh, come here." Aidan brushed her apology aside, rising from his position on the table to pull her into a hug of his own. This one almost completely enveloped Thea, and she let herself relax into the warm embrace after less than a second. "You don't have to say anything." Her friend said kindly, his chest vibrating against her head as he spoke. "Just try not to push us away again, alright? We're your friends, we want to help you." Thea smiled at the words, letting herself relax just a little bit more. This was something she could get used to.

Still, something deep inside her kept itching at her mind, telling her that something was going on, like there was a secret right under her nose. Little did she know how right this feeling was, nor how it linked to the thin file of papers on her mother's cell bed.

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 **Hope you enjoy this chapter. The ending was a pain to figure out, but still, it is what it is.**

 **I'd like to give a quick thanks to OTPGalore17 and bigfan22 for helping me work on some points in the story. They've been a massive help, so please go give their work a bit of love.**

 **Drop a review if you liked it, and I'll catch you all next time.**

 **TimeFury1347**


	7. State vs Queen

The wide yard in front of the Starling City courthouse was almost buzzing. Reporters milled around near the road, waiting with cameras, microphones and recording devices. Hard to blame them, considering what was about to begin in just over half an hour's time. The day of Moira Queen's long-awaited trial had finally arrived, and the family of the accused would be arriving at any moment, ready to support their mother. It was like three Christmases at once for these people, the perfect opportunity to get a quick quote or answers to the questions many in the city were asking, while blinding everyone around with the flash of photo after photo.

Still, from where Aidan stood leaning against one of the columns close to the building's entrance, it was hard for him to think of the small crowd as anything other than vultures.

Admittedly, his own encounters with the media of the city had been less than stellar. After his mother's death, a handful of reporters had hounded him for days, from the moment he'd left the hospital with his sister in his arms, pressuring him for a quote about 'how he felt after such a terrible ordeal'. How the hell did they think he had felt? It had taken one of them going after his sister and Aidan retaliating with, he could concede, slightly over-aggressive force before they backed off, deeming the risk of physical attack not worth whatever piece they had been working on. He was still surprised at how easily the reporter he'd grabbed in question had agreed to drop his efforts, along with the formal complaint he had threatened beforehand. Although, the headlock Aidan had placed him in had come dangerously close to becoming a choke hold, so he could understand the desire to get away as soon as possible. This peace hadn't lasted long, however, and the soul-sucking 'journalists' had begun anew once he'd opened his bar. Looking back, Aidan was rather proud of himself for the self-restraint he had demonstrated under the circumstances, especially when several of the amateur interrogators had tried to force a reaction out of him by digging up memories of his mother. And, as for the aftermath of the Undertaking… well, his bloodlessly white fists whenever he had seen one reporter or another standing among bits of broken building without the slightest intention of helping in the clean-up effort or manhunts for the missing pretty much conveyed his opinion successfully.

His thoughts were swiftly put to the side as a silver Mercedes pulled up alongside the open plaza, the arrival resulting in the reporters moving closer to the vehicle with all the subtlety of a tap dancing elephant. The driver got out, and Aidan's back straightened slightly as he caught a look of the man. Even at this distance, he could swear that he had seen him somewhere before. He just couldn't remember _where._

He was pulled from his consideration, however, as the man opened one of the car's rear doors, allowing Oliver Queen to climb out onto the street. Aidan had heard of the heir to Queen Consolidated, but then again, who in Starling hadn't? Seven years ago, his face used to be all over the city, usually accompanied by gossip of his latest fling or a report about yet another run in with the police. Then, after the Queen's Gambit had been lost at sea, there were more pictures and stories, in a more flattering light for the most part this time, as the city said farewell to one of its native sons. His reappearance last year had paved the way for more media coverage of the shipwreck victim, and, more recently, the man had featured in article after article about his mother's actions and case. Aidan couldn't help but feel sorry for him, disregarding his more carefree days. The man had been through something that most others would find impossible. To return to civilisation and end up with his mother facing the death penalty in such a short space of time… Aidan couldn't help by admire the man somewhat for bearing all of this without breaking.

After Oliver came Thea, emerging from the privacy of the car into the hubbub of the public eye, and Aidan again felt sorrow leak into his mind as he took her in. Unlike her brother, who had managed to disappear off to Europe following the revelation and horrific execution of the Undertaking, Thea had been forced to remain, putting her lie back together while tolerating the barbs and insults many in the city hurled at her on a daily basis. And, while Aidan could understand their pain all too well, the fact that they held the daughter of their scapegoat as responsible was enough to let a burning anger flow through his system. After all that she had lost, all she had been forced to bear, how dare they treat her in such a way. Still, he couldn't help but feel proud of his friend as she managed to maintain her mask, despite all that must be going on in her head. The day she had dreaded for weeks was finally here, and everything she had done in preparation was about to be put on the line. He silently congratulated her for keeping her composure in a situation where he would have struggled to do half as much.

As the three people made their way towards the courthouse, the reporters finally began their assault. Equipment was shoved at the small group, flashes of light went off around them like landmines as photographs were snapped of them, and Aidan could hear the shouted questions from where he stood

" _Mr Queen, what are your mother's chances?"_

" _Is she one suicide watch?"_

" _Mr Queen, can you give us any comment?"_

He shook his head in disgust. Did these people have no idea about discretion, or were they purposely trying to be complete assholes?

"It's not fair." Aidan turned his head to follow the sound of the new voice, and his ears perked up slightly on seeing, just a few feet away from him at the top of the stairs, the lead prosecutor Adam Donner, and Laurel Lance. Thea hadn't told him much about the latter, just a few stories of her brother that happened to include her, but he knew from the gossip of the city that the Queen siblings had been close to the eldest Lance daughter. The fact that she was part of the team trying to sentence Moira to death had clearly hit the young Queen hard.

As for Donner, Thea had been remarkably simple in her description, requiring only two words for the man: total douchebag.

"They're not the ones on trial." Lance was saying, and Aidan's opinion of the woman grew slightly. At least there was _someone_ here with a sense of courtesy towards the family of the accused. That sentence alone made it easy for him to see her as Sara's sister.

"That won't stop Jean Loring from using them as props to drum up sympathy." Donner pointed out crassly, and Aidan could barely suppress the smirk that itched to twist up the corner of his lips. The ADA was in for a bit of a surprise on that front.

"You don't seem overly concerned." Lance noted, and Donner only smirked.

"She confessed to being an accomplice on live television." He said, and Aidan didn't like the note of confidence in his words. What did the man have planned?

"She also said that Malcolm Merlyn coerced her." The Lance lawyer said, head turning to face her legal partner. "You have something, don't you?" She asked, and the ADA's smirk was enough to confirm it for Aidan. Donner had, or thought he had, a 'secret weapon' he could use for the case to help him win. Despite his concern, Aidan's interest was most certainly piqued.

"I thought I was your co-counsel, Adam." Laurel Lance stated, clearly annoyed by her boss keeping information about the case she was a part of from her. "If you're holding a trump card, don't you think maybe you should share it with me?"

Donner offered nothing by way of explanation, apology or appeasement, only maintaining his sickeningly confident stance. "It's going to be a good trial." He said simply, before indicating to the door. "Come on, let's get inside." He moved towards the door, and Lance turned to follow, but paused as something caught her eye. Letting his own eyes trail along the invisible line, Aidan saw that she was staring at Oliver Queen. The trio had gotten a lot closer by this point, and he saw the older Queen's expression, which was already closed off, seal itself in even tighter. An interesting little titbit he'd tuck away for later.

Pushing off the column to stand up straight, Aidan began to move towards the small group, still surrounded by reporters. He quickly managed to focus in on Thea, who was practically swamped by the crowd that pressed in tight around her, dwarfing her as they shouted question after question. Forcing his way past a rather overzealous woman holding her microphone like it was a sword, he grabbed on to Thea's hand. Her head whipped around at the contact, looking for whoever had touched her, and visibly relaxed when their eyes met. He gave her a small grin, before turning his head to look at her brother. The brother who was currently giving him a look that, in all likelihood, should have sent him straight through the centre of the earth.

"Follow me." Aidan said, trying to convey his meaning through the two words: _'I can get you away from this lot.'_ It seemed to work, as Oliver gave him a quick nod, before tapping his bodyguard on the shoulder and indicating. The man turned, and Aidan's heart skipped several beats as he finally connected the face to his memory. He squashed it down, however, resolving to think it over in greater detail when he wasn't so pressed for time.

Forcing the reporters aside once more, Thea's hand still held in his, Aidan led the small group through the doors of the courthouse, before taking an immediate left, towards a smaller door. Pushing it open to reveal the sharply turning hallway beyond, he ushered his 'charges' through before turning to face the crowd of reporters that had followed in their wake, many of whom were now throwing their questions directly at him.

Ignoring the illegible tidal wave of words, he straightened his back and raised his own voice. "I'm afraid that Mr and Miss Queen are unable to answer any questions at this time, so would you kindly go bother someone else. Thank you for your co-operation." The crowd, who had quietened down somewhat as he spoke, began to quickly start up again, but Aidan was faster still. He stepped backwards through the doorway and pushed it closed, muffling the voices beyond, before sliding the door's bolt lock home.

Turning to face the hallway he was now in, Aidan was forced to call upon his honed reflexes to keep his balance as Thea practically flung herself at him, hugging him tightly. He was quick to return the embrace, after ensuring that the two of them wouldn't fall.

"Thank you for that." She said as she pulled away. Aidan flashed her a grin, ignoring the death glare her brother was sending his way.

"Don't mention it." He said easily. "I thought you guys could use a little peace before this all starts." He turned to face Oliver Queen, whose glare had apparently been turned down somewhat by his words to Thea. It was still pretty strong, though. "If you head right, there's a stairwell that'll get you almost directly outside the courtroom." He maintained the stare as he spoke, refusing to admit defeat.

"Right." Oliver said, slightly sharply. "And who are you again?"

Thea's elbow in her brother's rib ended the impromptu staring contest quickly after that, something that Aidan was silently relieved at. The older Queen had a will of pure iron, and he honestly wasn't sure if he could've held on much longer before breaking.

"Rude." Thea scolded, sending an apologetic look to Aidan. He waved it off with a gentle shake of his head, easy grin in place.

"No worries." He said, moving closer and extending his arm. "Aidan Maddox, nice to meet you." Oliver took his hand, and Aidan felt his fingers strain as the older man almost crushed them. He gave as good as he got, however, keeping the growing pain from his face. "Thea's told me so much about you."

"I dread to think." Oliver said smoothly, a smile on his face even as Aidan felt the man's eyes carefully pick him apart with an almost surgical precision, trying to get a feel of him. The man must have been a quick judge of character, as they released each other's hands a moment later. Aidan did his best not to clench his fingers, the desire to fully relieve the strain on them growing to an almost unbearable height in record time. Seeing an opportunity in the very familiar bodyguard, he repeated the greeting, silently sighing in relief at the far less intense handshake.

"Pleased to meet you." He said, trying not to show his surprise at the man's nocturnal friendship or the connection he had to such a famous Starling family. And, alongside these, he hid the concern that sprung up at the sight of the thin layer of sweat on the man's forehead, above eyes filled with exhaustion.

"Same." The man rasped, further worrying him. "Name's Diggle." The two dropped hands, and Aidan decided to let some of his concern show across his features.

"Are you alright, man?" He asked, eyes flicking over the bodyguard as the signs of illness became more and more clear. "You don't look too good."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Diggle said gruffly, and Aidan's eyebrows jerked up slightly.

"If you say so." He said, dropping the subject while showing his disbelief. Glancing down to check his watch, Aidan's eyes widened at how little they had left. Time really had managed to slip away from him.

"You should probably get going." He told the group. "Not long until the trial starts." Oliver and Diggle nodded before immediately moving off, the former questioning the latter further about his illness. Thea, however, lingered behind.

"What about you?" She asked in confusion. She had asked him to come today, in a show of support for both her mother and Thea herself, although the latter part went unmentioned.

"I need to sort something out first." Aidan said, wincing internally at the lame excuse. "I'll be there as soon as I can." As bad as it was, it did the trick as, although her face clearly showed her slight scepticism, Thea began to move after her brother.

Aidan waited for a few seconds for the trio to get a fair way down the hallway, before unlocking the door and heading out. If the reporters were still as eager as they had been only minutes before, stalling could at least buy them a head start. He needn't have worried, however. Only a few determined reporters remained, the vast majority having gone to find someone else they could interview. It was a far easier task now to get through the half a dozen or so men and women left, with only a few calling out questions to him, while the rest decided to follow their colleagues once it became clear that the Queens had vanished. Making his way further into the courthouse, heading up the circular staircase towards the room that most had already arrived at, Aidan turned off just before the final corner into a small side room, close enough for him to hear the murmur of voices coming from the courtroom. Inside the room, resting on the table at its centre, was the small briefcase he had placed there earlier. Opening the case to quickly check over its contents, Aidan pulled out a few documents before closing it and running his hands over his suit, smoothing out the creases and straightening his tie as best he could.

Finally, he was ready. "Showtime." He muttered to himself, before picking up his gear and exiting the room, heading to where his 'audience' waited.

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The door ahead of her opened, and Moira allowed herself to be led into the courtroom. She worked to maintain her mask of calm stoicism, but inside, her stomach was roiling. With the exception of her wedding day, she didn't know if she ever been so nervous, although the mood was much darker than it had been then. Today was the day she had been waiting for ever since she had been escorted from her home in handcuffs, the day her crimes would be judged before the entire city. The metal around her wrists was a stark reminder of what she had done, and she pushed the thought of what they could mean for her future aside. If it had done nothing else, the last six months in prison had done wonders for her sense of clarity. She knew exactly what this trial would bring, win or lose, and she accepted that. She would either be returned to her children, given the chance to rebuild the life that had been destroyed the moment she was dragged in to Malcolm Merlyn's twisted plan, or she would finally get the chance to see her husband again. Either way, there was nothing more she could do now.

Looking over the courtroom as she moved towards the defendants table, her eyes caught on the front row. Oliver and Thea sat right behind her chair, ready to support her. Even Thea's friend Roy was with them, and in a suit, no less! She could almost laugh at how uncomfortable he looked, but chose to keep it to herself. It probably wouldn't look good to the jury, and besides, he had come to support her, or at least her daughter. The least she could do was remain courteous. There was another seat beside the small group that remained empty, and Moira watched as her daughter turned to look back at the door for a moment, worry and confusion playing across her features. She sighed internally at the sight. She wished she could tell her she was wasting a seat.

The rest of the rows contained a fair number of people, a mix of spectators and, at the back, reporters from various newspapers and channels. Moira pretended not to see the venomous looks being hurled at her by many of those present, although she silently acknowledged every single one. Coerced or not, she had still played a part in their pain. If hating her helped to alleviate even a small portion of what they were suffering, she would accept it without a second thought.

Finishing her mental lap of the room, Moira's eyes locked on the prosecution table. Adam Donner was watching her come in, gaze mocking her as she moved. There was no doubt in her mind that the man thought her guilty, or at least wanted to make the case go that way. There was something in his eye that turned Moira's stomach, a self-confidence sitting a mile inside arrogance, like he knew that he had already won. And there, sitting beside the man but refusing to look at her, was Laurel Lance. Moira could still remember the shock she'd felt on finding out she was part of the prosecution, and the emptiness she had seen in the young woman through most of the meeting. Laurel had practically grown up in the Queen household, and Moira could tell without words how the current situation was hurting the both of them, though the two of them wanted to deny it. Should she come out of all this in one piece, Moira swore that she would find some way to offer an olive branch to the girl she had once seen as a daughter. And, if things took a turn for the worse, then she hoped that Oliver and Thea would be able to forgive the young Lance.

Moira didn't bother looking at the jury or judge. She'd be facing them for however long the trial took anyway. Plus, she wanted to retain come level of hope for her children that, if she looked now, would almost certainly fade away.

Reaching the table, she allowed the officer that had brought her in to remove the cuffs from her wrists. That small taste of freedom helped to settle her somewhat, and she sat, turning to face her children and ignoring Donner's irritating smirk.

"Are you ok?" Thea asked quietly, and Moira smiled reassuringly.

"I'm fine." She promised her daughter in a whisper. Oliver didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes said more than words ever could. Moira sent him another smile, and he sat back a little, the look of support never leaving his face.

"Where's Jean?" Thea asked, concern shining in her eyes. Moira smiled comfortingly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she's around here somewhere." Not untrue, given that she had asked her old friend to come today. However, she wouldn't quite be where Thea clearly expected her to be. After recent events, including the file she had been graced with several days ago and the lawyer's attempts to influence her daughter's social life, Moira's defence had taken a bit of a shift, one that even she had been unsure of beforehand. Now, however, the majority of her doubts were gone, and only an anticipation remained as she waited for the seat beside her to be filled.

"Before we begin, Mrs Queen," Judge Mandelbaum began, brining a hush over the courtroom, "I would like to ascertain the status of your defence. I trust you aren't planning to defend yourself?" Moira could practically sense Donner's smirk growing in size, but ignored it, focusing only on the judge.

"No, I do not, Your Honour." She said, a look of assurance spreading over her features. "I believe my lawyer shall be here momentarily."

And, as though the move had been rehearsed, the door to the courtroom opened and Aidan Maddox walked in, briefcase in one hand and several bits of paper in the other. Moira turned to follow the man's approach, watching from the corner of her eye as Thea's mouth gaped open.

The room was virtually silent as the man moved forward, stepping from the stands to the court floor with ease and placing his briefcase on the table.

"I take it you are here to defend Mrs Queen." The judge said, not so much a question as a statement. Aidan turned to face the man.

"I am." He agreed, stepping forward carefully and passing his papers up. "Aidan Maddox, Your Honour." Mandelbaum looked through the papers, before nodding.

"Very good." He said, passing the papers back. "Please take your seat so we may begin." Aidan placed the papers down on the table, but did not sit.

"I'm afraid I have one final matter to attend to." Aidan said, looking to the judge for confirmation. At the man's nod, he pulled another document from his briefcase and approached the prosecutors' table, before passing the sheet to Laurel. Moira's brow furrowed in confirmation. He hadn't mention anything about this.

"It is my duty to inform you, Miss Lance, that you are no longer a part of the prosecution team." Moira's eyebrows almost reached her hairline at those words, and her breath caught in her throat. She had not been expecting _that._

And neither, it seemed, had Donner. "You can't do this!" He practically shouted, rising from his seat in an instant to argue the point. "Miss Lance was selected personally by me to serve as co-counsel, with authorisation from the DA herself."

"And it is the DA herself who has removed her." Aidan shot back, words professional and voice as sharp as a knife. "I merely pointed out to her that Miss Lance's involvement presents an unacceptable bias, due to her connections with the Queen family and her personal past with Mr Queen."

"How so?" Donner sneered. "I cleared her appointment myself, and there were no concerns over her 'connections' then."

Moira could only just suppress her smirk at the look Aidan was giving Donner, as though he were dealing with a troublesome child. "Unless you've been living under a rock for the past seven or eight years," he began, sounding like he was explaining things to a toddler, "you'd know that Miss Lance and Mr Queen were in a relationship before the loss of the Queen's Gambit, which also resulted in the death of one Sara Lance." Moira saw Laurel wince at the reminder, and she couldn't blame the younger woman. Even after all these years, the wound was still raw in many ways. "And, while I have no personal grievance with Miss Lance, there is still the risk that her grief over such a painful event may cause her to jeopardize the integrity of your case, in a perversion of justice to sate a deep-rooted desire for payback." He leaned back slightly, hands sinking into his pockets. "Vetted by you or not, Mr Donner, she cannot remain if this is to be a _fair trial._ "

The stress on the last two words finally managed to silence Donner, and Laurel rose quickly, her few personal effects having already been gathered while Aidan spoke to her boss. Moving away from the table after a quick glance to the two men, she slid into the nearest available seat in the stands, prepared to watch the trial if not take an active part in it.

His work done, Aidan nodded to the judge before steeping back to his table a taking a seat. Moira could tell that he was forcing himself not to look around, to where Thea was almost certainly drilling a hole in the back of his head with her eyes. The elder Queen said nothing, but waited for the trial to begin, a small sliver of hope running through her.

Aidan had given her an outline of his plan before she'd accepted his offer, and he was already putting it into action. All that remained was to see if he could keep it going.

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Thea still couldn't wrap her head around what had just happened. When she had woken up that morning, she'd had a fairly simple idea of how the day would progress. Get to the courthouse, do her best to ignore the reporters that were certainly going to swarm around her and Ollie like a horde of bees, get to the courtroom, wait for the trial to start and be there to support her mother, while Jean did everything she could to keep the older Queen from being handed the death penalty. The first few steps had gone fine, with not an insignificant amount of help from Aidan when it came to outfitting the media crowd that always gave her a headache. And then, everything had been sent flying to the four corners.

All because of the young man sitting in front of her.

The youngest Queen had, before now, thought she'd had a pretty good understanding on her newest friend. Aidan had suffered so much in the past, demonstrated by the terrible markings across his body, but still managed to keep a smile on his face. He was funny, kind, smart, and he was one of the few people who actually cared about her. He was willing to give her the support she needed, be it through the amazingly comfortable hugs he gave her, being there for her when she needed him, or simply working to take her mind off things. He was _very_ protective of Sin, and had proved that he was willing to stand up for his friends. Thea had thought that she had more or less mapped him out, at least in general terms. There were a few bits of him that remained a mystery to her, but she would be able to account for those if and when he let her know about them.

Still, she had never considered Aidan in this light. In the space of a few minutes, he had taken the place of Jean as her mother's lawyer in perhaps one of the most dangerous of cases, and had already done more for it than the rest of them combined. He had removed what was possibly the only stable element from the prosecution, certainly the only one capable of causing true damage, had sown the seeds of doubt when it came to Donner's intentions for the trial, and, if the quiet murmurs and discreet glances were any indication, had already begun to sway the jury in his favour before the trial had even begun. She had no idea how he had ended up in the position he was in, or how he had managed to get Laurel removed, the two prongs forming a slowly growing curiosity in her gut that demanded she find out as soon as possible, but could only watch and hope that he would live up to the expectation she had unconsciously placed on him. The future of her mother's life was on the line, and Thea needed to believe that her friend could do this. After all he had done for her, it was the least she could do now.

' _-have been complicit in an undertaking with one horrible purpose-to destroy the Glades and everyone in it.'_ Thea snapped back to reality at the sound of her mother's voice, recalling the words from all those months ago. Looking past her mother and friend, she saw Donner stood before a flat screen TV, playing a recording of the confession to the room. Pausing the playback, Donner turned to face the jury.

"And it worked." He began. "The Glades were destroyed. Homes and lives were lost. All because of her actions. True, she had second thoughts; Remorse which compelled her to deliver this statement." His words were almost overflowing with conviction, and, as he turned to face the 'mastermind of the Undertaking', Thea saw the passion and disgust in the man's eyes. "But on behalf of the 503 lives that were extinguished that day, I say, Moira Queen, your remorse comes too late." He stated dramatically, and Thea struggled not to roll her eyes, although she wasn't quite able to suppress the quiet huff that pushed its way through her lips. The man certainly did like to hear his own voice, and, if his career in law ever fell through, he could easily find good work as a public speaker. He certainly had the lungs on him.

The short speech was accompanied by a low hum of mutters from the jury and spectators, and Donner made his way back to his seat, confident look on his face even as he smirked cruelly in the direction of the defendants table. Thea looked to her mother, whose head had slowly dipped forwards at the words, the reminder of all those who had died because she hadn't spoken out sooner weighing on her. The young Queen wished she could give her mother a hug, but knew that such a display of affection and comfort would have to wait until later. Aidan, on the other hand, seemed almost close to the opposite of his client. His spine might as well have been a metal rod, it was so straight, and the constant bouncing of his leg indicated that he was ready to go. The judge looked towards the young man, and, with a squeeze to the elder Queen's shoulder, he rose and made his way towards the centre of the room.

"The Undertaking was a true tragedy for the Glades." Aidan began slowly, taking his time in choosing what to say. "503 people lost their lives that night, while many more were injured. We can never forget such a loss, and it would be nigh on impossible to resist the urge to seek justice for the dead, in order that they might truly rest in peace." He paused, and Thea shivered slightly at the look of steel in his eyes as he cast his gaze around the courtroom. "But we cannot allow out pain and our grief to lead us down a path of vengeance. Vengeance is not justice." He turned back to the jury. "503 people are dead. I don't mean to make light of that fact, but that is what it is. A fact. And facts are the very cement of justice. They state what is with no moral judgement on how we feel or think of an act. They just are."

Turning to the flat screen, Aidan rewound the confession. "And the facts are right here." Pressing play, the voice of Moira Queen flooded through the room once again.

' _For the last five years, under the threat for my life and the lives of my family-'._ He paused the recording. "A threat on her life, and those she loves." Aidan stated, fast-forwarding the clip a few seconds, before pressing play again. _'I realize now that my family's safety will mean nothing if I let this dreadful act occur.'_ Pause. "A willingness to risk the safety of herself and those she loves to save others." Aidan said plainly, once more repeating the sequence of fast-forward and play. _'-I have proof that he has killed dozens in pursuit of this madness. Adam Hunt, Frank Chen, and my husband Robert.'_ Thea felt her eyes well up at the reminder of her father's death. She couldn't begin to imagine how her mother felt.

Aidan let the rest of the video play. _'Please.'_ Past-Moira begged. _'If you reside in the Glades, you need to get out now. Your lives and the lives of your children depend on it. Please.'_ The video ended just as Moira stepped down from her platform, and Aidan turned back to the jury.

"There is more to this." He informed the twelve people, all of whom were listening with rapt attention. "But these are the facts so far. Moira Queen was threatened into compliance, not merely for her own life, but for the lives of her children. Malcolm Merlyn, the _true_ mastermind," Thea smirked slightly as Aidan threw Donner a subtle yet incredibly dirty look, "proved to her that he was willing to kill anyone in his way, including her husband. She actively chose to risk her life by warning the city, and, in doing so, helped save thousands of lives. We can never forget those that died that night, but nor can we ignore all those that survived, due to the actions of this Moira Queen." Thea could see some of the jury members gently nodding in agreement, while others were clearly considering what he had said, and she grinned at the man, forgetting her confusion at his presence for the moment.

"And before I close," Aidan said, surprising those present after several seconds of his silence, "I would like to quickly pose a question to you all. While it is true that facts and truth are what defines our system of law, our feelings do hold some place in helping to understand a person's motives. I'm sure that every one of you has someone in your life that you care about deeply. A friend, a spouse, a family member. Suppose you were faced with the same choice as Mrs Queen. What would you do?"

And with that, he moved to take his seat, leaving the jury to consider what he had said. As he reached the table, Thea's eyes managed to catch his, and she let her confusion flourish across her face, silently asking the question of what he was doing here. Aidan's mouth moved in answer, although no sound came out. Thea could tell what he was saying, however.

 _Trust me._

Aidan sat back down, and Thea leaned back in contemplation, the two words dancing through her mind. It took the space of a few seconds for her to decide. Aidan had more than proved himself trustworthy in the past, and she had no reason to start doubting him now. She could only pray that he would be able to see his task through.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Sitting back in his chair, Aidan had his eyes fixed on the witness box as Donner prepared to question Thea. Both of his hands sat in his lap, the left one playing with the thin gold band with a black gem on his right ring finger. The ring had belonged to his mother, a gift his father had bought for her when they'd met, and was one of his few remaining links to her. He had previously considered throwing the piece of jewellery away, especially when he thought about who had bought it in the first place, but had quickly found himself unable to. Instead, he'd had it resized for himself and used it as something of a good luck charm, reminding him of his mother whenever he began something potentially risky. He'd worn it when he'd opened the bar, and it had even been under his love during his first week of vigilantism. Now, he could only hope that it truly could help him now.

The gap between the opening statement and now had been incredibly nerve-wracking, and not just for him. Although his speech had seemingly gone over pretty well, Aidan was unwilling to bet on it swaying anyone just yet. Aside from the fact that he was defending a woman many in the city saw as a mass-murderer, Donner had managed to play on the emotional aspect of the case, sounding to be speaking for those lost during the Undertaking. A tactic that could get a lot of sympathy from the jury, especially if any of them had been personally affected by the attack, although Aidan doubted it. If the trial was to be a fair one, despite a large part of Starling calling for Moira Queen's head, then the jury had to remain, at least relatively, impartial. Aidan was pretty sure that his words had put some of Donner's emotional stirrings to rest, but even so, he knew he'd have to stay on his feet. Given everything that Thea had told him about the man, he knew he'd do everything possible to force the angle he wanted.

And, from the ugly looks the A.D.A. had shot him during the brief interval, he knew the man would not be going easy on anyone.

"When was the first time you heard about this so-called Undertaking?" Donner began, and Aidan surreptitiously shot Thea an encouraging grin as she glanced at him. She was clearly nervous, and he couldn't help but try to help her out.

She leaned a little closer to the microphone in front of her. "When everyone else did, when my mother gave the press conference." She said, keeping a good grip on her emotions aside from the trace nerves that pushed through.

"Doesn't seem like you took it too well." Donner noted, and Aidan silently groaned. The man had spoken two sentences, and he could already see where this was going.

"I was surprised." Thea supplied. "Who wouldn't be?" When the next question didn't come right away, both Thea and Aidan looked to Donner. The man looked-flustered.

The A.D.A. quickly cleared his throat, pushing on. "Uh, your mother was, um, immediately taken in custody, but I assume you went down to the precinct to see her?" He asked. Aidan couldn't push aside his confusion at the man's initial hesitancy, regardless of how he quickly managed to build up his strength. Something just seemed…off about him.

"Um, actually I didn't see her until he was moved." Thea admitted, sounding almost embarrassed about the fact.

"To the prison." Donner clarified. "Do you remember when you visited her?" He asked.

"Uh, not the exact date." She hedged, and Aidan winced slightly. It would have been better to have just said the date without any hesitation. Now, it was merely a matter of _when_ Donner would use it against the young Queen.

"It's ok, I have the visitor log here." The man picked the log up from his table and made a small show of searching for the date. "October ninth." He said loudly, drawing attention to the gap between the arrest date and first visit. "Five months later." Donner set the book down, but suddenly seemed to lose his strength. He leaned heavily against the table, and Aidan sat up slowly, fingers frozen against the ring. He _really_ didn't look good. "Why so long?" The A.D.A. asked haltingly.

"Um, I-I…" Thea began, before stopping as she looked at her questioner. Aidan could plainly see the concern for the man on her face, regardless of what he was trying to do. "Are you ok?" She asked as murmurs began to rise from the spectators.

"An answer, please." Donner said loudly, forcing himself to stand up and face Thea. "Why did it take you five months to visit your mother?" He asked forcefully, and Aidan's eyes narrowed. Ill or not, and the man certainly looked sicker by the second, no one spoke to his friend like that.

"Your Honour, if I-" Aidan began to object, both for Thea's sake, since she was looking terrible in the face of Donner's forceful questioning, and to alleviate some of the strain in his head that called out for him to either shut him up or take him down. And one was just not acceptable for the current setting.

The judge, however, held up his hand to stop him. "No. I want to hear this." He said, and Aidan sank back down, fingers curling and uncurling anxiously as the thrum continued through his mind.

"I needed time." Thea finally said. "I was angry." And understandable reaction, but one that played right into the prosecutor's hands.

"So angry, perhaps, that it took you five months to forgive her?" Donner supposed, and Thea took the bait instantly.

"It was complicated." She argued.

"No. It's very simple." Donner countered immediately. "You blamed your mother for what she had done." He looked to the jury. "So why shouldn't the jury?" Donner moved back over to his table, apparently having said what he needed to say. "Your Honour, we have no further questions for the…witness." The man suddenly leaned heavily against the table once more, the look on his face making it clear that there was most certainly something wrong. And then he fell.

Aidan was out of his chair in less than a second, catching Donner before he hit the floor. He may not like the man, but even he wouldn't want to see him crack his head against the hard ground of the courtroom. He lowered the ill man down onto his back, a task made even harder by the heavy convulsing that had suddenly overtaken the A.D.A.

"Adam!" Laurel Lance shouted, rushing from her spot among the spectators and media representatives as the voices began to grow in number and volume from the audience.

"Someone get help!" Aidan shouted at the mass, running his eyes across Donner swiftly. "I think this man's been poisoned." He looked up to see Oliver Queen next to him, checking the unconscious man over with the same concern, although there was a strange familiarity in his eye. Aidan tucked the information away for later consideration as the courtroom doors burst open, paramedics already rushing in. There were far bigger concerns right now, almost all of them linked to the twitching attorney that had aroused so much chaos in the space of only a few minutes.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Oliver watched as Donner was wheeled out of the courtroom on a gurney. The man appeared confused, as if he had absolutely no idea what was going on, which, given what had just happened to him, wasn't that hard to imagine. He was also fiddling with his I.V. line, and Oliver had to admit that the sight of the A.D.A. fighting weakly against the paramedics that were trying to keep him still, as though he were a small child having a tantrum, was kind of funny, if not just a little bit satisfying, considering what he had been doing beforehand. Any feeling of enjoyment, however, was shot sown quickly by the sobering reminder of what had brought all of this about.

The Count was active again in Starling. After Diggle had managed to get dosed, Felicity had done a check. And, lo and behold, the drug-dealing psychopath was free, having broken out during the Undertaking alongside Mathis and God knows how many others, with the escape being heavily concealed by the prison officials. Because apparently, it was better to just cover things up than let people know there was a madman on the loose. Oliver could honestly scream at the incompetence. If this had been made public knowledge from the beginning, he might've been able to stop this before it even began. He remembered when he'd last seen the Count, crippled by his own drug due to Oliver's actions. He felt some regret at letting the man live, knowing what he was, but forced it aside. That was then and this was now. He could criticise his past actions when the Count was back where he belonged, in a cell and wrapped in a straightjacket.

Watching the drugged out Assistant District Attorney vanish through the courtroom doors, Oliver made his way over to Thea. "Hey, are you ok?" He asked her. Even without the collapse, his sister had been put through the ringer, with her words almost the perfect fodder to stoke Donner's anti-Moira Queen campaign.

"Don't worry about me. I can take it." She said with false confidence. Oliver stayed with her for another few moments before eventually deciding to move away. He knew Thea and, when she felt like this, the best thing to do would be to give her a bit of space to breathe. Besides, there was someone else he needed to talk to.

Moving through the doors of the courtroom, Oliver searched for his mother and her new lawyer. He wasn't going to lie, he was still sceptical about the man. He hadn't even known the man existed yesterday, and even now, the most he knew was that he was a new and, Oliver wasn't afraid to admit it, uncomfortably close friend of Thea's. Even now that he had seen him in action, he couldn't quite shake his wariness. The way he had removed Laurel did light a small spark of anger in the billionaire's chest, but the way the young man had handled the jury _and_ Donner was still quite admirable.

He could have Felicity properly vet the man at a later date, purely for the purpose of ensuring his sister's safety, of course. But for now, he'd have to content himself with watching and waiting.

Approaching one of the handful of side chambers just outside the courtroom, Oliver slowed as he heard voices emerge through the ajar doorway.

"Was that as bad as it seemed?" He heard his mother ask.

"Thea's testimony or Donner's faceplant?" The deeper tone of Aidan Maddox asked although his question was somewhat rhetorical. "Neither were particularly great, although we should be able to recover. Donner will be replaced, which should be interesting enough on its own following Miss Lance's removal, while I just need to get Thea on the stand again for a few minutes. I won't lie, we were kind of looking to her to-"

"Humanize me." Moira interrupted, and liver winced slightly at the bluntness of her statement.

"That is…one way of putting it, yes." Aidan said slowly. "But like I said, I'll come up with something. Although, if you _really_ want this to work, there is something you could do."

"No." The elder Queen said almost instantly. "No, I told you, I won't testify."

"I know you did." Aidan agreed. "And before this, I didn't need you to. But now, even if I can undo Donner's work, your testimony is what ties everything together. Please, you have to."

"He's right, Mom." Oliver agreed, finally making his presence known as he stood in the doorway. The room's occupants turned to face him, his mother looking slightly surprised by his sudden appearance. Aidan, on the other hand, barely reacted, and Oliver had the sneaking suspicion that the younger man had known he was there. "Mr Maddox, could you give us a minute?" He asked, leaving no room for argument in his words.

The young man nodded quickly. "Of course." He agreed, before walking out of the room, one hand shifting through his short, dark hair.

"I know what you're going to say." His mother said the moment the young lawyer had gone, door closing firmly behind him. "But if I testify, it will destroy our family."

"And if your lawyer's right, you don't have a choice." Oliver countered effortlessly. "Mom, secrets are what put you in this situation. Secrets and lies." He sighed. "And now it's time to give the truth its day." His mother stayed silent, and Oliver waited as she stared out the window, silently praying for her to see the light. While he may still be unsure of the man, Maddox was right. The testimony of Moira Queen herself could mean make or break in this trial, and something about the young man told Oliver that he had a trick or two up his sleeves. He only hoped that his mother could be brought around to the same understanding, and that Thea's friend wouldn't buckle under the task that was set on his shoulders.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

For the first time in weeks, Verdant was silent, closed to the general public for the night. Thea sat on one of the stools at the empty bar, staring at nothing in particular as she let her thoughts roam. They really were a mess right now, a mixture of memories, emotions and just general feelings that had been conjured up over the course of the day. And, at this point, she just couldn't find it in herself to even begin sorting the bundle into anything resembling order.

She sensed someone appear at her shoulder, and turned sharply, ripping herself suddenly from the swirling maelstrom of her mind, before relaxing at the familiar face.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you walk up." She muttered to Roy, the cause of her momentary panic. "I just want to be left alone."

"Well, too bad that's not an option for you." Roy said, and Thea groaned internally. Was it physically impossible for this boy to just _listen_ to her for once? "But maybe I know something that is." Confused, Thea was about to ask what he meant, when the answer became clear as a pair of red boxing gloves were dropped in front of her. She looked up at Roy incredulously, unable to quite grasp what he was insinuating.

He made things simple a moment later. "Hit me."

"What?" She asked, as Roy kept staring at her, seemingly waiting for her to carry out his instructions.

"You wonder why I used to go out at night, looking to throw down with bad guys." He started to explain. "Part of it was to help the city. And the other part was to help me." This she raised an eyebrow at.

"Getting tuned up by street thugs helped you?" She asked in disbelief. She was beginning to think her friend had taken one too many hits to the head.

"Yeah, well, I gave as good as I got." Roy replied in self-defence, strapping her hands into the gloves as he did so. "There we go." He proclaimed as he finished. "When I would throw a punch, I'd be so angry. I'd feel this heat rising inside of me, in my jaw. In my chest. And in my fists. But it needed somewhere to go. Come on." Thea let him tug her out onto the empty dance floor, the resistance gone from her body now. "Thea, you're angry. At your mother, the D.A., yourself, maybe." He kept explaining, his words making more and more sense as he went on. "But that anger is going to chew up your insides if you don't let it out."

"I'm not going to hit you, Roy." Thea protested. As much as his words made sense, there was a difference between punching someone who deserved it and punching her friend.

"Try." Roy dared her. "Try!" He repeated the challenge, a new edge to his voice this time. Figuring she might as well try, just to shut him up, Thea threw a non-committal swing, hitting him softly on the arm. "I said hit me, right?" He mocked, and Thea felt a heat begin to burn in her chest. "'Cause that felt like- that didn't really fell like anything." She hit him again, this time putting more effort into her swing. "Better." He acknowledged. "But keep your wrists straight. Don't just use yours arms. Put your entire body into it." She punched him again. "Come on, again." If he said anything else, Thea didn't hear him, all her focus kept on throwing hard punch after hard punch, over and over again. With each hit, she felt the tight control she'd had over her emotions steadily begin to slip away, the anger she'd held in all day flowing out of her. Finally, it all became too much, and she collapsed into Roy's arms, tears streaming down her face as she let herself properly feel everything for the first time in weeks.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, Roy letting her lean against him as her body heaved with tears. Eventually, she pulled away, looking up at her friend and ex-boyfriend in gratitude.

"Thank you." She said quietly, brushing her cheeks dry with her arms, boxing gloves still in place over her hands. Roy smiled, and seemed to be about to say something when he looked behind her, spotting something new. Thea turned to follow his eyes, and saw Aidan, stood just inside the club and half-hidden by the shadows.

"Sorry." He said, upon realising he had been spotted. "Is this a bad time?" Thea shook her head, reigning in her rampant emotions as she gestured for him to come in properly, tugging the boxing gloves off her hands as she did so.

"No. No, come in." She said, watching as the young man moved into the lit area of the club. The suit and tie was gone, replaced by a more basic outfit of jacket and jeans, and Thea had a hard time fully connecting him to the lawyer that had swept in out of nowhere that morning.

"I can't stay long." He said as he reached the two other occupants of the room. "I just need to talk about tomorrow."

"Sure, what do you need?" Thea asked, mind switching back to think about the ongoing trial. Aidan hesitated before speaking.

"I need you to testify again." He said. Thea was struck dumb by the request. After what had happened today, why would he ask her to do that?

"Are you serious?" It was Roy that managed to give her thoughts life. Aidan nodded.

"I know things didn't go perfectly today," Thea huffed quietly at the understatement, "but it's not beyond repair. I just need you up there for a few minutes, five at the most. I promise, I'll sort all of this out."

Thea thought over the words carefully. On the one hand, it could easily end in complete disaster. Before the trial, Jean had said that their defence hinged on her mother being seen to have done what she did for Thea's sake. Her testimony had practically obliterated that, and what was left could easily be wiped away by her taking the stand again. On the other hand, she trusted Aidan. He promised that he could fix all of this, and something about him told Thea that her friend had more than a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Alright." She agreed. "I'll do it." Aidan's shoulders slumped slightly in relief. "If you answer something for me first."

Aidan's head slowly raised up to look her in the eye. "What do you want to know?" He asked, his tine a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked, finally saying the question she had been mulling over ever since he had walked into the courtroom. "Why are you defending my mom?" Since when were you a lawyer anyway?"

Aidan sighed, looking to regret agreeing to her terms so quickly. "It's not a pretty story." He warned the two in front of him.

Thea didn't say anything, just kept staring at him with an expression that wouldn't take no for an answer. Eventually, he relented, moving towards the bar and sitting heavily on one of the empty seats. Roy took this opportunity to move away, disappearing further into the club to give the two some privacy.

"I told you about my father joining a gang after he got laid off, right?" He asked. At Thea's nod, he continued. "One of the gang members was a lawyer. He didn't take part in anything, but he was always there to bail the rest of them out if they ever got into trouble. I honestly can't remember how many times I watched him get my old man out on a technicality, or pull one stunt or another. The man was a master at twisting the courts to suit his own ends, and he got paid pretty well for his 'services' every time." Aidan spat the last few words out like they were poison, and Thea's eyes widened slightly when she saw pure, unbridled hatred take shape on her friend's face for the very first time.

"I was about sixteen when I decided that enough was enough. I started gathering as much evidence as I could get my hands on, on my father, his mates, every single thing they ever did. Photographs, recordings, screenshots of texts and emails they sent each other. You name it, I had it. There was only one thing standing in my way when I had everything I needed. That freaking lawyer. I don't know why, but I just didn't trust anyone else to go up against him. So, I started doing an online course. I got together enough money for a computer and the other bits I needed, from jobs and the occasional raid on the gang's takings, and I taught myself. I figured I'd be able to present the case myself, since I knew every trick that son of a bitch had. I passed not long before my eighteenth, and then it was just a matter of _when_ I'd hand the stuff in."

Aidan's tone grew more sombre at this point, his face displaying the dark feelings of pin and anger his words almost choked on. "And then, one night, my _father_ found out. He was drunk, and had decided to trash my room because why the hell not? I'd hidden the bulk of what I'd gathered somewhere safe, but I guess he found something I'd forgotten to move. I get home, and I find him with a gun to my mother's head. He starts screaming at me, saying I'm a traitor and that I need to destroy everything I got or he'd kill me. I tried to keep him talking while I called the cops, but then-" He stopped suddenly, the words refusing to come, and Thea saw tears blossom in Aidan's eyes.

"I guess he got tired of waiting, since he pointed the gun at me. My mother tried to get it from him, but he just shot her in the head." He tapped the spot between his eyes. "Right here." Aidan fell silent once again, and Thea felt tears form in her own eyes. She felt terrible for making him go through that, and she reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder, only to have her hand batted away, much to her surprise and shock.

"That's why I'm doing this." Aidan told her, rising from his seat to his full height. "I'm not going to let you lose your mother like I lost mine." He looked around the empty club briefly, before finally moving away, towards the exit. "I've got to go." He said shortly, hand running over his face to wipe away the few salty drops that had fallen.

"Aidan." Thea called out, but he ignored her, walking as fast as he could and vanishing through the doorway. And Thea was left standing there by the bar, staring at the now-empty space where her friend had just been, with a whole new mess of emotions for her to sort out.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The day dawned bright and early over Starling City, and the courthouse was a hive of activity as the trial of Moira Queen continued. Aidan struggled to suppress a yawn as he rose to question Thea, silently berating himself for both the lack of the sleep and the insufficient amount of coffee he'd fuelled himself up on. Last night had been an exhausting one, and, add to that the pressure he already had on his shoulders in the form of the trial, it was already beginning to take its toll.

After he had left Verdant, thoughts and emotions fluctuating wildly following his explanation to Thea, it had taken about half an hour to reach Iron Heights, where he had been quite surprised to find Moira deep in conversation with Laurel Lance. The two had stopped as he'd entered, and Laurel, after thanking him for getting her off the case of all things, had warned the both of them about what Donner had uncovered. Once she had gone, Aidan had asked his client about this secret, only to be shocked into silence upon hearing about the elder Queen's previous affair with Malcolm Merlyn. If the prosecution had that, then he was sure they would milk it for everything they could get. It has taken nearly another hour before Aidan had managed to come up with an idea to sort the whole mess out, a plan having formed to contain whatever backlash would inevitably accompany the reveal. It had already been late when he'd left, but Aidan hadn't even considered returning to his apartment, directing his bike towards the hidden bunker beneath his bar.

He'd been in his apartment when the Count's broadcast had taken over his TV, the work for the trial spread out before him as he'd added details to his multiple avenues of argument. It had been largely forgotten when that psychopath's voice had flooded through his home, however, and Aidan had come perilously close to breaking something, most likely the TV itself, when he'd heard about the newest Vertigo epidemic. He'd managed to contain the majority of his anger until he'd pulled on his mask hours later, and by then all bets were off. Aidan had been up almost until dawn searching the city, hunting down as many of the 'friendly neighbourhood Vertigo dealers' as he could find. The current count racked up to almost two dozen poison pushers, but there would still be more, cowering in the shadows and waiting to pick up where the fallen had left off. Until their boss was taken down, they would keep coming back, like a swarm of cockroaches. Aidan could only pray that the Arrow was working on it, since he doubted that Damocles would have much of a chance to truly look into things. He had slightly more important things to focus on for the time being.

"Miss Queen," he began once Thea had taken her seat, "what exactly were you feeling when you found out about the Undertaking?" Thea's brow scrunched up slightly as she thought for a moment.

"Confused. Angry." She said, before considering for another second. "And worried."

"Why worried?" Aidan asked, although he already knew the answer. "You yourself were at no risk from the earthquake. Were you concerned for the Glades, for your mother, what?"

"My boyfriend lived in the Glades." Thea explained, glancing to Roy for a moment before meeting Aidan's eye. "I was worried about him."

"I see." Aidan agreed. "And did you act on this worry?" Thea nodded.

"I went to find him. I wanted to make sure he was alright." Aidan nodded, mentally grinning as his plan steadily came to fruition.

"And, as the prosecution has so kindly pointed out, you did not see your mother again until the ninth of October. I assume that, in that time, you did not receive any explanation surrounding the nature of your mother's involvement?" Thea shook her head.

"No more than anyone else." She acknowledged.

"I have only one more question." Aidan said, fixing Thea with a powerful gaze. "While Mr Donner may have found the answer to this as simple, I think we'd all like to know why it took you so long to visit your mother. Why did it take five months?" Thea shifted slightly in her seat, but stilled upon meeting his eyes.

"It was anger to start with." She explained. "I thought she had helped kill so many people, almost my friend. Then, I couldn't understand _why_ she'd do that, and I was still too angry at her to ask." She paused, gathering strength before continuing. "And then I got kidnapped by those Hood psychos, and I understood. My mom did what she did because of the circumstances she was in, and because Malcolm Merlyn would have killed her otherwise." Aidan nodded at the words, shooting Thea a quick grin before turning to the jury.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," he began, "it is clear to see how Miss Queen's reaction to her mother's statement was not based on blame for her mother's crimes, but due to a lack of proper understanding. Emotions are powerful things, capable of controlling our thoughts in the absence of clarity. Miss Queen was clearly a victim of this process, but came to understand the truth once faced with the reality of her mother's position. A position with only two options: obey or die."

He turned to the judge. "No further questions, Your Honour." He said, before taking his seat once again. He gave Thea a comforting look as she walked back to her seat, although he couldn't suppress his own reservation as the new prosecutor, the D.A. herself Kate Spencer, called for a short break before calling her next witness. He had managed to neutralize one of the woman's weapons in this case, but there was still a much larger one about to appear. He had the plan he and Moira had cooked up for this at the forefront of his mind, and all that remained was to see if it worked.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

It was like the entire world had begun to splinter and crumble around her head. Thea sat in her spot behind the defendants table, watching as her mother was led to the witness box and read her oath, although it felt as though the scene before her, the entire courtroom even, was taking place a thousand miles away from her. She felt Oliver's hand squeeze gently on her own, but her fingers felt numb, the reassuring gesture turning just a little bit hollow. And, even though her body was there, albeit barely, her mind was long gone, trapped roughly fifteen minutes in the past as the same scene played over and over in her head.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

" _But you said you didn't want to testify."_

 _The courthouse's side chamber echoed with Thea's words. She, her mother, Oliver and Aidan all occupied the rom, the latter two remaining silent in the face of the elder Queen's declaration. She was going to take the stand, regardless of her previous refusals, and Thea wanted to know why. What had caused this shift?_

 _It didn't take the young woman's mind too long to come up with an answer, and she sighed at the obviousness of the explanation. "But you have to. Because of me." Thea let herself drop into her chair, dejected. This was all her fault._

" _No." Her mother denied, but Thea ignored her._

" _You have to do damage control." She continued, guilt washing over her. If only she'd spoken with a bit more conviction, more confidence when dealing with Donner, this wouldn't have needed to happen. Even with the questioning Aidan had put her through, she knew that all of this was still on her._

" _None of this is your fault." The Queen matriarch stated sternly to her daughter. "We're here because of what I did." The older woman sighed. "Now, you both know the truth, but you don't know all of it. The prosecution does, as does Mr Maddox."_

" _What do they have?" Oliver demanded, clearly tired of the secrets. Thea kicked him under the table as he shot a very unfriendly look at Aidan. To be fair, the younger man barely reacted._

" _You shouldn't have to find this out in court." The elder Queen said after a moment, and Thea could feel her patience going the same way as her brother's._

" _Find out what?" She asked, close to exasperation._

 _Her mother paused before answering, looking to be summoning up the courage to speak, and Thea felt herself subconsciously brace slightly. This was_ not _going to be good. "Years ago- it was many years ago… your father was engaging in his- his extramarital activities." She said delicately, seeming to despise every word coming out of her mouth. "And I had a moment of weakness. I cheated on him." She paused, and Thea felt the blade of the dagger coming. "With Malcolm Merlyn."_

 _And everything in her head came to a grinding halt with just those three words. Thea shook her head in denial. "No." She said, refusing to believe her mother. "No, I-I asked you about this. Last year. You said that there was nothing between you two!" She exclaimed, denial giving way to fury as she remembered her suspicions a year previously. Was that just another lie?_

" _There wasn't." Her mother said at once. "Sweetheart, it wasn't an affair. It was very brief, and a long time ago."_

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There was more to the memory, but Thea didn't feel like sifting through any more of it than she had to. Instead, she let her mind return to the trial, where Kate Spencer was just finishing up revealing the same information to the jury.

"And, despite it, you remained friends with Mr Merlyn." She said, turning back to face her witness. "In fact, he frequently attended parties at your house."

"He was my husband's best friend until Malcolm killed him." The Queen woman pointed out, clearly not enjoying her current position.

"And this is why you claimed to feel as though you were in fear for your life and the lives of your children?" Spencer asked, obviously not believing the defendant.

"Well, I think it's a fairly compelling reason." The elder Queen said defensively, bristling at the D.A.'s insinuation.

"Last year, your second husband, Walter Steele, was abducted by Mr Merlyn, is that correct?" Spencer asked.

"Yes. So you see-"

"Why didn't Malcolm kill Walter, the same as your first husband?" Spencer asked at once, cutting the Queen's words off.

The older woman sighed. "I convinced Malcolm not to." She admitted.

"And Malcolm listened to you." Spencer pointed out for the jury. "Your friend spared the life of Mr Steele at your request, and yet, you'd have this jury believe that you and your children were in _danger?_ " The D.A. asked, voice overflowing with incredulity.

"We were." Thea's mother said, once again on the defensive. "I was afraid-"

"Of getting caught." Spencer said, silencing the woman while presenting the jury with her version of the situation.

"Despite whatever youthful mistakes I might have made, Malcolm Merlyn was a dangerous man." The accused Queen tried again, and Thea sighed as her mother was quickly shot down once again.

"To other people." Spencer stated. "But the only person who truly posed a danger to Moira Queen and her family was Moira Queen herself." She turned to the judge. "The prosecution rests." She said, the satisfaction in her voice impossible not to hear, before returning to her seat. Thea slowly unclenched her hands, not having noticed them curling into bloodless fists, and worked to calm herself, watching as the judge slowly nodded to Aidan. The man stood up in front of her, before approaching the stand.

"Mrs Queen," he began, " _when_ did this affair take place?" The way he posed the question caused Thea to sit up slightly, and she watched as her mother's posture minutely relaxed.

"About twenty years ago." She answered easily, her words sparking a wave of quiet whispers amongst those listening, jury and spectator alike.

"I see. And how many _…_ encounters were there between you and Malcolm Merlyn." Thea chuckled to herself as her eyes caught the slight flush that danced up the back of Aidan's neck. She'd remember that for the future.

"One or two." Thea's mother said after a moment. "As I said, it was a long time ago."

"And I assume that this affair ended not too long after it began, in that case." Aidan stated, with the woman in front of him nodding in agreement.

"It was all over in the space of a week." The elder Queen explained. "I was having a moment of weakness, and Malcolm was there to comfort me. Nothing more." Aidan nodded, before turning to face the jury.

"I believe I am correct when I say that Malcolm Merlyn was, at the very least, a sociopath. Indeed, a man cannot be responsible for the deaths of over five hundred people and the injuries of countless others without possessing a serious degree of madness." The jury nodded, all appearing to agree with the young man's analysis. "And, with that in mind, I submit that this affair, if it can even truly qualify as such, would have no effect on the safety of Moira Queen and her family. For a madman such as Malcolm Merlyn, once short-lived _fling_ that took place two decades ago would pose no measure of restraint, should Mrs Queen have gone against him."

Turning to face the judge, Aidan straightened. "Your Honour, while I am far from done with the witness, I'd like to request a short recess so this information may be properly processed." The judge nodded in agreement.

"Court will resume in fifteen minutes." He announced, before banging his gavel. The spectators immediately burst into noise, and Thea stood, leaning over the rail in front of her slightly as Aidan approached.

"What are you doing?" She asked, curiosity filling her voice.

"You'll see." He promised her, before gesturing to the door. "You might want to stretch your legs. This could take a while."

Thea nodded, before moving to follow her brother, working to control the excitement in her chest. Aidan had something planned, she knew it, if that glimmer in his eyes was anything to go by. And she couldn't wait to find out what it was.

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Court was back in session, and Aidan was struggling to contain himself. Moira was back in the stand, the flat screen TV had been wheeled out once again, and his fingers were almost coming apart at the joints with the speed at which they were fidgeting beneath the table. After weeks of investigations behind the mask, with no little effort made to make the entire collection appear legitimate, it was almost time to begin.

At the _bang_ of the judge's gavel, the noise in the courtroom vanished almost immediately. "The court is back in session." Judge Mandelbaum announced, before looking towards Aidan. "Mr Maddox, the floor is yours."

"Thank you, Your Honour." Aidan said, rising from his seat with practised ease as he made his way forward, picking up the small remote control from the table as he did so. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, will you please direct your attention towards the screen." Pressing a button on the remote, the flat screen switched to show the schematics for the complex cylindrical device.

"These, ladies and gentlemen, are the blueprints for the Markov device." He announced. It had taken him hours of trawling through 'protected files' for him to find this. "Two of these were used to level the Glades, although fortunately one was deactivated before it could cause any damage. These machines were capable of producing a massive amount of power, which could then be used to trigger a localised earthquake." He moved towards the jury. "Sounds like something from a science fiction movie, right?" His words were met with a small amount of laughter, although every jury member nodded in agreement.

"Mrs Queen," Aidan turned to face his client, "did Malcolm Merlyn ever tell you of his plans for the Glades involving these devices?"

"Yes, yes he did." She answered.

"And how did his plan sound to you?" He asked, although the response was obvious.

"It sounded insane." Moira responded. Aidan nodded.

"Until a few months ago, the idea that an entire city district could be wiped away by a man-made earthquake machine would have sounded ridiculous." He stated. "The ravings of a madman." The jury nodded, agreeing both with his assessment and the underlying link to Merlyn's clear insanity.

"Despite this, why didn't you reach out sooner? After all, it would have been a simple matter to reveal these plans to the police."

"Malcolm had people all over the city. I thought that, if I did anything, they'd inform him." Aidan nodded.

"And I assume that his public status as a well-renown humanitarian didn't help." He posed. "After all, who would think a man so publicly revered could do anything so monstrous?"

"Who indeed." Moira agreed. Aidan quickly grew serious once again.

"Despite this, it is clear that someone did try to prevent this tragedy." He said, pressing another button on the remote. The image changed, now displaying an official report, accompanied by the image of a half-destroyed yacht.

"This is, or rather _was_ , the Queen's Gambit." Aidan informed the jury. "Until recently, it had been stored in a warehouse owned by an organisation known as 'Tempest', with the money for the recovery coming from Queen Consolidated." He turned to face Moira. "Did you pay for the remains to be removed?"

"Yes." Moira responded, the word shaky as she clearly struggled with the memory. "I recovered it on Malcolm's orders."

"While the ship itself has mysteriously vanished and is presumed destroyed," Aidan pushed on, "these images were recovered." He flicked through them on the screen, showing the destroyed yacht from different angles. While they were not easy to come by, they were more than worth their price in what they displayed. "It is clear to see how the ship has been sabotaged." He looked to Moira once more. "Did Malcolm Merlyn tell you anything about this?" He asked.

"He implied that he had placed a bomb on board, not long after my husband and son vanished." She admitted. "My husband had found out the truth of the Undertaking, and intended to use his trip to undermine Malcolm's work." Aidan nodded, feeling slightly guilty for the dredging up of this particular topic. Honestly, he would have preferred to leave this area of events alone, but it needed to be addressed.

"Did Merlyn tell you why he wanted it recovered?" He asked, and Moira shook her head.

"No, but I understood what he meant." She revealed. "He was warning me not to try anything similar." Aidan nodded, turning to the jury again.

"Of course, sabotage wasn't Merlyn's only method of control." Another button, and the image of the yacht changed to the hidden weapons room in Malcolm Merlyn's office. "This room was found behind a secret door in Merlyn International, and serves to link Merlyn to the so-called 'Dark Archer' that appeared around Christmas last year." He announced. More photographs followed, showcasing each weapon and an empty mannequin. "All of this shows how Merlyn was both trained and clearly responsible for a number of murders, including those of Adam Hunt and Frank Chen." The jury looked shaken, but Aidan refused to let up.

"I ask you, how does this _not_ show a clear danger to Moira Queen and her family?" He asked heatedly. "Ignoring the fact that he was responsible for multiple deaths even before the Undertaking, the sinking of the Queen's Gambit demonstrates the threat he was to Mrs Queen." Aidan closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply as he controlled the anger that had risen up in him. He gestured for the TV to be taken away, before diverting every last ounce of his focus to the jury.

"In closing, I argue that to say that Moira Queen and her family were not in danger is nothing more than a refusal to face the facts." He stated. "Not only did Moira Queen have no protection from her 'affair' with Malcolm Merlyn, her family was clearly targeted in an effort to keep her from speaking out. And, if the loss of her husband was not enough, Mrs Queen was then forced to pay for the recovery of his grave, a terrible ordeal accompanied by a single message: follow orders, or die." He paused. "I don't know whether Mrs Queen should have spoken out sooner than she did, but all that matters is that she did. She spoke out against a maniac that was forcing her to be an accessory in the most heinous of crimes, and yet she is on trial for an act of horror she played no hand in."

Looking at each individual member of the jury, he continued. "Lades and gentlemen of the jury, I hope you take everything you have seen here into account. Moira Queen, while not an entirely innocent party in all of this, was not responsible for the Undertaking. Her reasons were valid, and it is almost blindingly obvious that forceful coercion was all that kept her a part of events. In fact, she played a key role in undermining its purpose, saving God knows how many lives in the process. Although our city was forced to bear the pain of the deaths of 503 of its citizens, I ask you, how can we lay the blame for their murders at the feet of the woman whose actions helped to prevent further agony? Moira Queen was, and is, nothing more than a woman doing everything in her power to ensure the survival of her family. Who among you can say they'd do anything different, when faced with the nightmare seen here today?"

Aidan nodded to the judge one last time before taking his seat, sighing quietly as he did so. He had done what he could, but now the time had come to see whether or not it would be enough. For the sake of the woman being escorted back her chair at his side, and her daughter sitting behind him, he hoped so.

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Thea was exhausted. After the revelations that had come out of the two-day long trial, including her mother's affair with Malcolm Merlyn and the plethora of truths Aidan had brought to light, standing with her brother as they waited for any kind of news was the last place she wanted to be. She needed a drink, or a distraction, or sleep. All three would be preferable, but the chances of her getting even one of them any time soon were looking pretty slim.

Although, she had to admit, she was a bit more hopeful than she'd thought she'd be before all of this madness began. Even at this time the day before, her scepticism at a positive outcome had managed to maintain its all-time high. Her testimony under Donner's questioning had dug Thea into a hole that she hadn't thought she'd be able to escape. That was, until Aidan had come along to throw her a rope. Her friend had been more than impressive over the past few days. From his opening statement, to the way he'd handled both Donner and Spencer, to the multi-tiered defence he had mounted only a few hours ago, with evidence and assurance that, according to her mother, had been built up over a matter of days. Regardless of the outcome, Thea knew that she owed her friend a dozen times over for this. He had taken on a case that might as well have been impossible, and dealt with it beautifully.

"Thea?" She turned at the call, along with Oliver, to see Aidan walking towards them. He looked about as tired as she felt.

"Can we call it a night?" She asked, moving away from the rail she had been leaning on and stepping towards him. Aidan shook his head wearily.

"The jury just signalled that they might reach a verdict." He told the two Queens. "The judge won't be willing to send them home until a final decision is reached. He was this all over as soon as possible."

"Line forms behind me." Thea said sarcastically. Something about what her friend had just said was bothering her, however.

"A verdict that quickly is bad, isn't it?" Oliver asked in dread, and Thea was slightly relieved that she wasn't alone in her fear of the speedy proceedings.

Aidan sighed. "Honestly, at this point it could swing either way. While I'd like to tell you the opposite, it would probably be best if you took this time to prepare for the worst. There really is no telling."

Thea nodded, and Aidan gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Like I said, this has the possibility of going either way. No one said you can't hope for the best." She smiled slightly at his comforting words, but couldn't shake the foreboding that had spread over her.

She felt the hand on her shoulder drop away, and watched as Aidan began to move away. "I wish I could say longer." He apologised as he retreated towards the large doors he had just appeared through. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He promised her, disappearing back into the courtroom.

Thea sighed as she was left alone with her brother once more, before Oliver's phone rang out. He pulled it out and appeared to recognise the caller. "Excuse me." He said, before moving away, out of Thea's range of hearing.

Now all she had to keep her company were her thoughts. She couldn't help but play over scenario after scenario of what might be happening with the jury, and what would happen when a verdict was finally reached. Thea tried to take Aidan's advice, and it did work to and extent. She managed to conjure up a few positive outcomes, although these were virtually overwhelmed by the negative ones. She knew Aidan was right, that the jury could go either way, especially given the looks of agreement she had seen on some of their faces following the young man's closing statement. Still, that did little to silence the darker part of her mind.

Hearing the noise of heavy, rapid footsteps behind her, Thea turned to watch, in shocked amazement, as Oliver began to storm towards the exit, _away from the courtroom._

She stared at him in disbelief for a second before words finally returned to her. Where are you going?!" She demanded. He doubled back to face her.

"Something came up at the office." He told her shortly, and Thea had to stop herself from slapping her idiot of a brother at the frankly pathetic excuse.

"Ollie, the jury!"

"I have to go." He insisted, and this time there was no turning back as he made his way rapidly towards the stairs. Thea watched him go in disbelief and fury. Her brother had just left her and _their mother_ in the lurch _again_. She was undeniably pissed at him, but pushed the anger away for the time being. She had bigger things for focus on than her brother's disappearing act. The jury could finish deliberating any minute now, and she needed to prepare for what came next.

Besides, Thea contented herself with the promise that, if Oliver didn't get back before the final verdict, and possibly even if he did, then she'd make it her sole mission in life to make him wish that he had never left his godforsaken island.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The moment had finally come. Oliver found himself back in his seat behind his mother, waiting with baited breath for the judge to bring about the last act of the trial. The next few minutes would mean life or death for the Queen matriarch, and Oliver was doing his best to keep every last ounce of his focus on the here and now, where it belonged.

Of course, some of it naturally still lingered on the showdown that had taken place not too long ago at Queen Consolidated. Oliver was still in two minds about the entire thing, and especially on how he had brought it to a close. On the one hand, he had broken his promise to Tommy. In killing the Count, he had betrayed the vow he'd made to his fallen friend. However, the Count was a psychopath, one that had seen no issue in poisoning the city, in kidnapping someone to draw out his foe, and then being prepared to kill his hostage simply because he was a sore loser. The city was better off without a man like Cecil Adams in it, and Felicity was still alive because he'd done what had needed to be done. The constantly circling thoughts were starting to give Oliver a headache, and he forced the debate away for the time being. Thea had been right when he'd returned, injury safely hidden beneath his suit. Right now, his family needed him more than the city.

"I have received a note that the jury has arrived at a verdict." The judge announced, the room deathly silent as he spoke. He turned to the bailiff. "Please publish the verdict."

"In the superior court of Star county state versus Moira Queen verdict." The woman began. "On one count of conspiracy in the first degree, the defendant is found not guilty." Oliver couldn't even begin to contain the surprise that such a verdict ignited within him. "On the 503 counts of murder in the first degree, the defendant is found-not guilty." The bow-wielding vigilante saw his mother's entire being sag in relief before she hugged her lawyer. Although he could only see the side of the man's face, Oliver could tell that Thea's friend looked ready to collapse. Which he did, slumping down into his chair almost the second the elder Queen had let him go.

The verdict also had the effect of sending the courtroom into pandemonium. Ignoring the chaos around him, Oliver worked to reign in his shock. _'I don't believe it.'_ He thought, only slightly aware that he was mouthing the words. He snapped back as his mother approached Thea and him, quickly rising as he pulled her into a hug.

"Mom." He said into her shoulder, before Thea wasted no time in getting herself pulled in alongside him.

"I love you both so much." His mother told the two of them tearfully. Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver saw Laurel rise from her seat on the opposite side of the aisle. He tried to catch her eye, but the blank face of the woman revealed nothing, and he could only watch as she calmly made her way out of the courtroom. He felt something in his chest, a desire to reach out to her and mend the bridges that had been broken in recent weeks, but she was gone before he could even begin to do so.

He was distracted from his thoughts of the elder Lance sister by his mother letting him go, and he watched as the elder Queen stepped back towards Aidan Maddox, who had managed to pull himself up from his chair.

"Than you so much, Mr Maddox." She said, reaching out to take one of his hands and squeeze the appendage in both of hers. "I cannot tell you how much this means to me and my family."

"It's Aidan, Mrs Queen." The young man smiled, having quickly recovered from his apparent shock. "And you are more than welcome." Oliver could have laughed as, almost as soon as the lawyer's hands were free, he was nearly knocked down by Thea barrelling into him. The Queen heir could hear the chant of "thank you, thank you, thank you" coming from his sister, and managed to restrain his brotherly instincts as Aidan wrapped his arms around her. The man had managed to keep his mother from the death penalty, Oliver supposed he could let this pass. For now.

Once Thea had finally managed to release her friend, Oliver extended his arm, clasping the other man in a firm handshake, albeit without the additional, fully justified pressure of their first meeting, only the day before. "I'd also like to thank you." He said, face displaying his gratitude while hiding his surprise the turn of events. "If it weren't for you…" He trailed off, but the man understood.

"No worries." He said. "Thea's my friend, this is the least I could do for her." Oliver nodded before releasing the handshake, with the young lawyer being pulled into yet another hug by his mother and sister, leaving the emerald vigilante to his own thoughts for the moment.

There was something… off about the man, but he couldn't quite tell what. He remembered his decision the day before to get Felicity to take a look at the man when she had a chance, and he quickly reinforced this intention. The man was hiding something, he was sure of it, and Oliver couldn't afford to let it go until he knew exactly what.

Of course, he thought once more as his sister continued to hold the man in question just a little _too tightly_ , this was solely for the sake of his family's protection against dangerous outside elements. Certainly nothing more. Of course not.

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If there was one thing that remained the same, both in an out of prison, it was that reporters always stayed a pack of news-hungry vultures. It was somewhat gratifying in a sense to have this continuous truth, an indication that life did, in fact, carry on following such a monumental shift, or from stepping into a new life from another, from arrest to freedom.

Didn't make them any less annoying, though.

Moira pushed her way through the crowd of reporters that had surrounded her on the short walk between the courtroom and the car waiting for her outside. Aidan was by her side, helping her actually get through the oppressive surge to the vehicle, and she couldn't help but feel glad for his presence. The wall of cameras and yelled questions seemed to just fall away in front of him, bouncing off his skin and leaving a path clear for the two of them.

Still, the questions continued to come hard and fast, and Moira could barely differentiate one from another.

"Mrs Queen, how does it feel to get away with murder?" One reporter called out, pushing through the others to appear in her vision. The elder Queen felt an arm loop through hers, and then she was being pulled just a little bit faster.

"You get to the car, I'll take care of this lot." Aidan said to her quietly as he urged her forward. Mira could see the tenseness in her lawyer as he spoke, the veins in the side of his neck becoming more prominent by the second.

"Did you kill your first husband?" Another voice broke through the unending noise around them. Moira fought to maintain her mask for just a little longer, before the swamp of people pressing in on her finally began to let up. The door was just ahead of them.

"Keep going." She head Aidan say, before he pulled away and his voice grew in volume. "Obviously, Mrs Queen is overjoyed that the jury has ruled that she was acting under egregious duress."

"Can you give us anything else?"

The words cut off as Moira stepped through the door and out of the building, to where the car, and its driver were waiting for her. "This way, Mrs Queen." The man said, and she was only too happy to follow his instructions, climbing into the back of the car and sinking into the rich leather seat. The door closed, and the driver pulled away from the curb, leaving the courthouse and doing an immense amount to nullify the migraine that would've formed in the elder Queen's head had she been forced to deal with any more loud-mouthed reporters.

Tilting her head, Moira looked out through the window as, for the first time in months, she was able to watch the city go streaming by her, to feel the breeze on her face as the glass lowered to let her see with perfect clarity. After the barred windows and mind-numbing dullness of Iron Heights, Starling was so beautiful in the dark, lights shining brightly and stretching up to touch the sky. And Moira didn't think she'd ever get tired of it.

Eventually, the euphoria of freedom faded enough for her to see where they were going. "The freeway will be quicker." She told the driver as he turned off into a side street. After the day she'd had, all Moira could think about was sleeping for a very, very long time in her own bed once again.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Queen. I was instructed not to take you home." The driver informed her as the streets grew more unfamiliar and foreboding by the second. "Not just yet." Alarms sounded in Moira's head at the explanation, and she looked around in worry-bordering-panic as the car at last came to a stop, in an empty parking lot just on the outskirts of town.

The driver climbed out and, after a few seconds, the door beside her was pulled open. Hesitantly, Moira stepped out, fighting to contain her growing fear even as he mind worked in overdrive.

"Where are we?" She asked nervously. "I-I don't know this place."

The driver offered not answer, only stepping back and turning to look over Moira's shoulder. "I've got her, sir." He said, and Moira considered turning to face whoever it was that had brought her here. Almost as soon as the thought was born, it died, as a black arrow lanced by her head to strike directly into the heart of the driver.

She cried out in shock and terror as the man fell against the car, before slumping to the ground. There was no question about it, he was dead. Spinning around to face the mysterious attacker, Moira's heart almost stopped as she saw who the unknown 'sir' was. And it was as though all her darkest nightmares were attacking her at once.

Striding towards her with unnerving confidence, in a smart business suit with a compound bow in one hand, was Malcolm Merlyn.

"Hello, Moira." He said, stopping a respectful distance from the fearful woman. For Moira, though, it was not nearly far enough.

"They said you were dead!" She exclaimed, still trying to wrap her head around the situation she had been confronted with.

"There are parts of the world where death is an illusion." Malcolm told her. "I've been to one. I learned to be very convincing. But I returned because you needed my help."

"Help?" The Queen matriarch asked, baffled.

"With your trial." He explained to her mounting horror. "Although I must admit, your young lawyer did succeed in doing most of the hard work for me. Good to see Thea is able to network these things, as it were. I am surprised though, that you think the jury acquitted you so quickly without a little…persuasion."

"Dead God." She breathed. What had he done? "What do you want, Malcolm?"

"I still have resources in Starling. Associates. Including one in the D.A.'s office." He revealed, like a magician unveiling his tricks. "I followed Mr Donner's investigation of you with interest." He moved closer, and Moira struggled not to recoil in fear and disgust. "The ease with which you lied about us for years, even today in court, it made me wonder whether you lied to me." He seethed.

Now, Moira couldn't help herself as she backed up against the car, terrified. "No. _No._ " She stammered in the face of what she knew was coming.

"It was a matter of a simple surreptitious genetics test to confirm my suspicions." Malcolm continued, getting closer and closer to the end, to the inevitable conclusion.

"Don't." Moira begged weakly, although by this point it was hopeless.

"Imagine my joy at learning that Thea is my daughter." Malcolm stated, and Moira felt the world fall away from her in the space of a second. That confirmation was the final nail in the coffin, the culmination of every single one of her nightmares, and the death sentence of any chance she had at simply ignoring the truth.

 _He knew._

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 **Well, here you go. Hope you enjoy, please do drop a review, and I'll see you all next time.**

 **TimeFury1347.**


	8. The Scientist

Everything felt weird.

That was all Aidan's throbbing head could come up with as he slowly returned to consciousness. It seemed that his mind was the only part of him to wake up, however. His body had seemingly decided to remain asleep, slumped over with his head resting against his chest. To Aidan, it felt like there was a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. His arms and legs might as well have not been there, he could hardly even feel them, and what he could was faint at best, while his head and neck stayed limp, as though the bones had been removed. There were noises somewhere nearby, but these were muffled, as though he were listening to everything through thick glass. And his eyes could barely see anything, only able to make out the shape of his body, and even then, it was blurred, a mix of pale pink and red.

As he stayed there, body slowly waking up with a great amount of resistance to his commands, Aidan's mind desperately tried to come up with an explanation for why he was where he was. Unfortunately, it just couldn't quite do so, still affected by the unexplained exhaustion of his physical form. He'd been going somewhere, hadn't he? Meeting up with someone, he was sure. There was…an event, something about…it wouldn't come to him. If he'd been able to move, Aidan would have smacked the side of his head, both to try and remember, and for whatever stupidity had landed him in his current predicament.

By this point, the numbness had finally started to recede from his limbs, feeling rushing back as his mind asserted control, and Aidan focused as details began to form about where he was. It was raining, he could feel the drops, and he was shirtless. The icy touches of the water flowed across his bare chest. Forcing his head up, Aidan looked around slowly, vision still pretty blotchy. An alleyway, he thought, the dark shadows of buildings looming up in front and behind him, while lights dazzled his eyes slightly from the right. He could hear cars, and people, pretty close by, along with a heavy thumping that could only be his heartbeat. And then, there was the smell that wafted up his nostrils, and Aidan's head dropped to the side as he stared down at the shiny black bags beside and below him.

He had passed out in a pile of trash bags. Typical.

Groaning slightly, Aidan forced his legs into action. There was nothing solid nearby for him to grab, so instead, he pushed himself back, slowly sliding up the brickwork behind him. The effort caused the muscles in his legs to scream at him, along with the flesh slowly being torn on his back. Honestly, right now it was just nice to know that he could still feel them. Eventually, he was on his feet, albeit whilst leaning heavily against the wall with his shaking legs ankle-deep in garbage, but standing was standing. Using his arms, Aidan pushed himself off the wall, back standing as he did so-

Only to almost end up face feet on the ground in front of him. Clearly, his legs did not feel like properly supporting the rest of him yet, only stumbling forward a few steps towards the wall opposite him.

Aidan was able to bring his hands up just in time to stop him from breaking his nose against the solid bricks in front of him. His palms tore against the rough surface, and he grimaced, looking down at himself. From what he could gather, all he wore was a pair of fairly shoddy jeans, the rest of him being left completely exposed to the elements. Although, considering what state the naked parts of him were in, that might not have been such a bad thing. At least on a cleaning front.

Blood coated his body. Aidan's eyes, still murky but growing steadily clearer by the second, roamed along his arms, streaked in crimson, to his torso, which had thin rivulets of blood leaking out of several wounds. Not deep enough to be proper stab wounds, but too deep to simply be scratches. The rain had managed to wash away some of the blood, stripes of skin visible amidst the crimson, but it seemed like there was always more to take its place. He felt something slide down the side of his nose, before another red drop fell to the ground, splashing against his foot. Raising one hand to find the source of the blood, he winced slightly as his fingers brushed against a handful of gashes that marked his face. One still had something protruding from it, and, tugging it free, Aidan stared at the shard of glass between his fingers, jagged tip painted crimson.

What the hell had happened to him?

Suddenly, a wave of pain lanced over his entire body, and Aidan let out a sharp groan, the most he could manage with his still half-dead vocal chords, as he curled in on himself, still trying to remain standing. Through the agony that seemed to come from the very core of every muscle, bone and vein that he had, Aidan fought to find the source. Eventually, as the tidal wave of pain finally began to recede after a few minutes or so, his eyes managed to focus in onto where the unexpected and highly unwelcome torturous sensation had come from. Half up his right bicep, almost invisible among the streaks of red coating the skin, was a small puncture mark that could only have come from a needle. Had he been injected with something?

Before he could give his hazy condition anything that even closely resembled proper thought, however, Aidan's head began to feel light, as his vision span out of control while the noises of the nearby street grew painfully loud and the stench of the trash behind him, along with the bits still stuck to him, exploded in his nose. Groaning, he slowly pushed off from the wall, before starting to move further down the alley with stumbling steps. He could think more about this later, when he actually _could_ think, but right now he needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere that hopefully wouldn't make him go blind, deaf and anosmatic. A familiar circular room appeared in his mind, and he grinned slightly, his drunk-like journey now having a destination in mind. His home away from home.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Sin's hands were shaking as she struggled to fit the key she held into the lock of the door leading down to the bar's cellar, water still dripping off her fingers from the downpour outside. The small metal object slid along the side of the keyhole with an irritating scratching sound, and the young Glades street rat knew she was only a few seconds away from simply breaking down the door. Either with a few well-placed kicks, courtesy of the several months of 'self-defence' Aidan had put her through, or by using one of the many nearby chairs or barstools as a makeshift battering ram. Sin was not in a patient mood right now, and this door was severely taxing what little control she still had.

The time she'd been having recently shouldered a fair amount of the blame for her current restless attitude. For the past two days, Sin had been using the Crypt's computers to completely scan the city, using every last trick available to her to try and find her friends. Aidan and Max had gone missing. Max had been gone for almost a week, having just upped and vanished during the Moira Queen trial. And Aidan had disappeared just a few days after. The last she'd heard from him was that he'd been going to pay a quick visit to his sister, and that had been it. No calls, no texts, no sign whatsoever that the man she saw as a big brother was even still alive.

She had considered taking things to the police at first, but quickly decided against it. After all, what would be the point? Both missing persons were Glades kids, people who most wouldn't care about. They'd either be declared dead as soon as she reported, or no one would get around to looking. Besides, given Aidan's involvement in the Queen trial, Sin was willing to bet that there would be more than a few bitter cops eager to ensure he stayed missing. No, searching for the pair herself was best. Although, the lack of any clues or indication as to where they had gone wasn't exactly helping her too much.

Well, until about half an hour ago, that was.

Sin's eyes had almost bugged out of their sockets once they'd seen the short message that had appeared on the partially cracked screen of her phone. It may have been five in the morning when the words had lit up, almost blinding her unprepared eyes, but any weariness she'd felt had been almost instantly obliterated by the four words that had made her heart practically come to a grinding halt.

' **In Crypt. Help me.'**

She had been ready to move in the space of a second, darting out of the Clocktower, she'd been sleeping there pretty much since Sara had left, and racing through the streets at breakneck speed, hope slowly building in her chest while she fought against the heavy rain that made her journey far more difficult than it should have been.

At last, the key finally managed to get into the lock, and she twisted sharply, throwing the door open as she moved into the cellar. A small voice at the back of her mind considered the benefits of installing a more convenient entrance to the underground bunker, but she ignored it for the time being. She had far bigger matters to handle. A few hurried steps and a tug on a fake pipe, and Sin was racing down the stone stairwell, feet almost flying over the decent at three steps at a time, before she emerged into the central hub of the Crypt. Fr a second, it looked the way it always did. Arched roof, grated metal floor, computers flitting through program after program as they carried out the task she had set them too, facial recognition software hard at work. Still, as she stepped around the technological semi-circle and onto the main floor, it wasn't exactly rocket science to pick out the abnormalities.

The lights in the short hall that led to the Crypt's medical room were on, directing her eyes down the short walk. The metal bed had been moved, the frame no longer visible. And, easily the most apparent, there was the long, bloody smear along the wall, from the makeshift hospital to the garage, accompanied by the occasional crimson stain on the ground.

Sin slowly made her way into the sick room, hope mixing with dread inside her at the sight of so much blood, along with the heart-stopping sound of laboured breathing ahead of her. This was the part of her life she truly hated, having to bear witness to the aftermath of her best friend's night life. Reaching the end of the short trek, she stepped into the room, and there he was.

The bed had been pressed right up against one of the walls, presumably to nullify the risk of it moving about under the pressure of someone clambering onto it. The thin sheet laid over it was covered in crimson stains, although that was truly nothing compared to the man laid atop it. Sin gasped at the sight of her best friend. Aidan's body was covered in blood, leaking out of multiple wounds on his torso and stomach, while his face was also marred by the handful of scratches and cuts across his features. He looked, at first glance, to be sleeping, or worse, but, at Sin's gasp, his head twitched and rolled around to face her. One eye remained closed, practically invisible beneath the blood, while the other was heavy-lidded, staring at her in exhaustion, the amber orb having lost its usual shine. The skin that she could see beneath the fluids that soaked it was pale, and overall he looked like he wasn't far from either passing out or simply packing it in altogether.

"Cindy?" He asked, voice scratchy and raw, and Sin's heart, which had almost stopped at her first sight of the man, now began to hammer violently in her chest.

"What the _fuck_ happened to you?!" She exclaimed, rushing forward as she began to properly check him over. It was her job to patch him up, after all, and she needed to know what she was working with first. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Can't remember." Aidan groaned slowly, sounding drowsy even as Sin raced around the room, getting what she needed to wipe him down and sew him up. "S'rry f'r worry'n' you."

"Who cares about that." Sin brushed the apology aside as she began to use a damp cloth to wipe away the first wounds bloody coating, slowing herself down at her friend's initial moans of pain. "Let's just get you sorted out." And she began her job in earnest.

It took her nearly an hour to fully address the injuries dealt to her friend. The stitches seemed to take longer than they ever had in the past. Sin couldn't quite place it, but it was like Aidan's skin was harder than it had been before. She'd gone through at least three needles before she'd finished her work, the first two bending to angles that made them impossible to use, or even salvage. Another thing that played in her mind was the lack of noise from Aidan's end. Aside from the beginning, he'd been almost unnaturally quiet, and Sin had forced herself to stop looking at his face or checking his pulse after the fifteenth time. He was still awake, albeit barely, but it was like he didn't even feel what she was doing, quite the distance from the usual muffled groans and sudden sharp intakes she had grown used to over past months. He just kept muttering something to himself, the same words over and over again that she could barely make out.

Eventually, her work had come to an end, and Sin, after struggling to pull the crimson sheet out from under Aidan, had laid a blanket on top of him, before hooking him up to a blood pack. They really had made sure to be ready for every occasion, with several sealed bags of Aidan's blood type carefully stored away in a permanently running freezer. Sin frowned once more as the IV needle struggled to penetrate her friend's arm, before leaving him to his sleep and heading towards the bank of computers. His muttered phrase kept playing on repeat in her head, and she resolved to do a little research into the ramblings before he woke. The ramblings that, in all likelihood, might have played a pivotal role in the disappearance of more than one of her friends in the space of a week.

 _Blood and Gold._

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

At the same time as this, on the other side of the city, the storm was raging above the Queen Consolidated Applied Science building. Within its walls, shielded from the storm cloud but not from the rumbling thunder that accompanied it, a pair of security guards were out on patrol, keeping an eye open for any irregularities. The stuff that was being housed here was worth millions, at least, and the multi-billion-dollar corporation could not afford to risk losing a single piece. The equipment being stored here had the capacity to change the world, and they needed all the protection they could afford.

Just a shame that it wouldn't be enough tonight.

As the two men made their way past one of the loading bay doors, they were stopped as it was suddenly shaken by a heavy impact, as though a car had just driven into it. The guards stared at the door in utter confusion for a second, before another, equally strong impact made the heavy metal cover shake.

"What was that?" One of the men asked his partner, confusion and surprise mixing together at this sudden departure from the expected. The other guard didn't respond, and the two could only watch as, again and again, the door shook from multiple impacts. Whoever or whatever was causing this wanted to come in, and, from the way the door soon began to buckle under the constant bombardment, they weren't willing to give up anytime soon. As the metal gate began to show signs of its imminent defeat against the unknown assailant, the guards drew their guns, waiting for whatever came next. Eventually, with one last hit, the door finally gave in, falling to the ground with a _crash_ as it was knocked away to leave the entrance clear. The guards didn't wait before opening fire. They had been hired to protect this building, and that was what they were going to do. Or try to do, at the very least.

Before the guards, stood in the space where the door had been only seconds ago, was a man. Dressed entirely in black, his features were obscured by a black, featureless mask. As the way became clear, he charged forward, shrugging off the hail of gunfire like it was nothing more than an annoyance, and punched one of the guards with the force of a truck. The man was sent flying into several barrels that toppled on top of him as he landed. If the unnaturally powerful hit hadn't managed to kill him, then the cylindrical containers that crushed him beneath them were more than enough to finish the job.

The second guard, now suddenly lacking a partner, tried to make a run for it, seeing the futility of the fight. Doing his job was one thing, but staying in the land of the living trumped that by a mile. Unfortunately, the man in the featureless mask put a quick end to his escape attempt. He lifted the guard by his neck with only one thick hand and squeezed, crushing the poor man's throat. The guard struggled for a moment before going limp, the light leaving his eyes in almost the same moment as the bones in his neck shattered. The freakishly strong man showed no remorse for his actions, simply tossing his victim head first into a heavy metal barrel. As with his colleague, if the guard hadn't been dead beforehand, he most certainly was now.

With this petty resistance now swiftly, and brutally, disposed of, the man in the blank mask began to head further into the building, searching for what he had been sent to retrieve. His master, his friend and saviour, had tasked him with this vital mission, and he would let nothing stand in his way.

For Starling City. For the Church of Blood.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Oliver had really been hoping that the day could have gone well.

The past week had been a complete roller-coaster for everyone in the Queen family. His mother had spent the time getting acquainted with the fact that, for the first time in months, she was a free woman, along with her dealing with the emotional fallout of the trial. Thea had been doing the same, coming to terms with the trial and the great secrets that their mother had revealed. There had been something else there as well recently, a kind of concern combined with anger that had sprouted up a few days after the trial that, quite frankly, baffled the male Queen.

As for Oliver himself, he had almost thrown himself back into his role as the Arrow, a way of returning to the strange kind of normalcy in his life as well as something of a stress relief. Though he would never admit it, he was still reeling from the revelation of the affair between his mother and Merlyn. While he couldn't find it in him to truly blame his mother for her infidelity, especially once he had been given the facts about why, his mind was constantly plagued with though of the elder Merlyn. Of their brief talk when Oliver had been captured, their fight on the rooftop just seconds before the Undertaking, of Tommy, trapped in the collapsed CNRI building with a piece of rebar sticking out of his chest. The disgust that had risen up in his stomach at the mere thought of such a relationship was a hard one to dislodge, and Oliver knew that it would take a fair amount of time and effort to remove.

He had hoped that the trip to the Queen Consolidated offices would serve to add another healing layer of normality to the lives of his family, but that idea had been shot down quickly enough by Miss Rochev. Oliver could easily recall his brief talk with her, along with the incredibly awkward meeting between his mother and business partner. He could say with a total honesty that it would not be an exaggeration to say that the tension between the two women would need a chainsaw to cut through. He could still remember the words of the frosty businesswoman as the car pulled up outside his destination.

" _Stop thinking like a son and start thinking like a CEO."_ She had told him. On the one hand, he had to admit that there was a grain of truth to her words. The jury may have acquitted his mother, with a fair amount of help from Thea's 'friend', but that didn't mean the rest of the city had. Olive had seen some of the newspaper articles that had been published following the trial, and it was clear just how much blame people were still placing on the shoulders of the Queen matriarch. But on the other hand, he couldn't suppress the desire to simply ignore Isabel's 'advice'. This was his mother he was talking about, the woman who, right or wrong, had done what she could to protect her family, long before the Undertaking had even become a twisted idea in Malcolm Merlyn's head. And, regardless of the wishes of Queen Consolidated's board of directors, Oliver wasn't prepared to toss his mother under the bus simply on their say-so.

He pushed the headache fodder from his mind as he climbed out of the car, walking alongside Diggle towards the Applied Science building. According to the bodyguard, a break-in had occurred, and he needed all his focus on the here and now if he was going to deal with this.

"This door was made of expanded reinforced titanium." Diggle noted beside him as they stepped inside. The two men stood just inside the building, Felicity waiting just behind them, with all three staring at the busted door. From the dented metal along with where it had fallen, Oliver could quite easily tell how it had been forced in. The real questions that still needed to be answered were who, how, and why.

Diggle was seemingly thinking along the same lines as he turned to one of the cops on the scene. It took Oliver less than a second to recognise Officer Lance. "What did they use to do this?" The dark-skinned bodyguard asked.

"Not sure yet." Lance admitted. "No sign of any explosives. Maybe a crane, maybe a forklift." The man walked around the scene before him. "I'm guessing there was at least three of them, maybe four. And given how quick they got in an out of here- they were fast." He guessed. Oliver nodded, although something at the back of his head was gnawing at his attention. He couldn't quite place it, but something was…familiar.

"Any idea what these guys were so hot to break in here for?" Quentin asked, still focused on the case at hand, and unintentionally helping to snap Oliver's mind back into place. "You didn't happen to leave a spare earthquake machine lying around, did you?" The archer shot the police officer a sharp look at the offhanded quip, his thoughts perfectly clear without a single word. _Back off._ "Sorry." The older man apologised.

"This is what we're able to pull off the security cameras." One of the CSU technicians said, approaching the group and pulling up a video on his tablet. Fixing his eyes on the small screen, Oliver watched as a man in a black mask killed the two unfortunate security guards, before the unknown assailant picked up a box and hurled it at the camera, abruptly ending the feed. The strength he displayed throughout the short clip was…disturbing. "He was the only guy we got on video. The rest of the crew must have come in after him." The CSU theorized. The little gnawing at the back on Oliver's head was starting to grow stronger, the unsettling nature of the case resonating within him deeply.

"Actually, it was only one guy." Oliver, and those around him, looked around at the new voice to the investigation. There was a young man stood across the crime scene, examining everything around him. The handle of a heavy-looking suitcase was clutched in his hand, and, despite his out-of-place appearance, he seemed remarkably confident in his statement. "Ah, sorry I'm late." The very young-looking man apologised as he made his way over, the confidence he had demonstrated only a second ago abandoning him in the blink of an eye. "But, actually, my train was late. Well, the second one. The first one I did miss, but that was my cab driver's fault. I've got this great traffic app, and… but he though that he was right. I'm here now, though, so…" He babbled, and Oliver's mind couldn't help but conjure up an image of the nearby Felicity at the short monologue, accompanied by a silent, groaned thought.

' _Dear God, there's two of them.'_

"Great." Lance said drily once the word vomit had finally come to an end. "Who the hell are you?"

"And do your parents know that you're here?" Oliver added. Seriously, the kid looked like a twelve-year-old.

"I'm Barry Allen." The new man said, pulling an ID badge out of his jacket and quickly showing it to them. "I'm from the Central City Police Department." He explained. "I'm with the Crime Scene Investigation Unit. We're working on a case with some similar elements in Central City, so when the report of your robbery came over the wire, my captain sent me up here." There was something about this 'Barry Allen' that Oliver didn't trust, an untruth that set his mind on edge.

"And you think that one guy ripped through this door like it was tin foil?" Lance asked, clearly sceptical of the idea.

"One very strong guy, yeah." Barry replied. Oliver looked away, the CSI's response throwing him back five years, cannonballing into the memory that had been scratching at the back of his mind ever since he'd arrived. The miracle, the submarine, Ivo's psychopathic mission. Men being tossed around like rag dolls. How had he not seen the connection sooner? Oliver groaned internally, a slight prickle of fear starting to grow in the pit of his stomach. After all this time, his worst nightmares were fighting to return to the real world once more. And, considering how things had gone last time, Oliver felt that the uncomfortable sensations this revelation unearthed were more than warranted.

"…I'm guessing you don't know how hard it is to break someone's neck." Oliver was brought back to reality as the CSI directed the focus of the conversation onto him.

"Hmm?" He looked up, quickly playing over the talk he had only half been paying the barest attention to. "No. No idea." He lied easily. A quiet cough from one side told him that Diggle was clearly paying attention.

"Uh, we're going to need a list of the entire inventory here to find out exactly what was stolen." The Starling CSU began again, clearly looking to restore his position in the investigation. Oliver, despite the dark thoughts circulating around his mind, almost cracked a grin as the desire was quickly shot down.

"Actually, I think I know what was stolen." Allen put in almost instantly. "A centrifuge. An industrial centrifuge. Probably the Kord Enterprises 2BX 900. Maybe a six series." He led the group towards a concrete base, with whatever it had previously held having quite obviously vanished. "Both have a three-column base. Here, you can see the three sets of broken bolts where the thief just ripped it out of the ground."

"And what exactly is a centrifuge?" Lance asked, looking to be way out of his depth by this point.

"It separates liquids." Felicity explained to the ex-Detective. "The centrifugal acceleration causes denser substances to separate out along the radial direction." Even Oliver was lost by this point. Science had never been his best subject at…well, any of the schools he'd dropped out of.

"And lighter objects move to the top." Allen finished for the blonde.

Oliver saw Felicity send a smile to the scientist. "What did you say your name was again?" She asked.

"Barry. Allen."

"Felicity. Smoak." She introduced herself.

Oliver shot the younger man a look. He still didn't trust the CSI, his instincts telling him something was off, and, thanks to the unwanted recollections this was putting him through, his patience was almost paper-thin.

At the looked, Allen hurried to pick up where he had left off. "Um, you can see the cracks heading towards the door." He stated, pointing to where the footprints had been firmly planted in the floor. "Footsteps. One guy." He stood from where he'd crouched to examine the nearest indent. "Anyway, it's just a theory. One backed by a lot of evidence." He added.

"There has to be another explanation." Lance protested, and Oliver felt some pity for the man. The very idea that one person could do all of this alone defied the laws of common sense. Indeed, if Oliver hadn't already experienced this before, he would've been inclined to agree with the grizzled cop.

"Yeah. I'm sure you're right." The young CSI said to placate the older man.

Oliver knelt down beside the base, examining the trio of broken pipes in more detail. Behind him, he could hear Lance talking to Felicity, with what he could only assume was meant to be subtlety.

"You might want to fill our mutual friend in on this." The cop told the blonde computer whizz.

"Yeah. Don't worry. I'm sure he's already on it." She assured the man. She wasn't lying, he most certainly was on it, a theory already coming together in his head. He could only pray that he was wrong.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

It there was one thing Moira had missed about the Queen Mansion, aside from her children, it was the pictures. Little snapshots of time that allowed her to recall and relive some of the happiest moments of her life. There were dozens, if not hundreds, of them in the massive house, either in carefully stored albums or on proud display on the walls. There were images of her own childhood and Robert's, the growth of two people into one couple, although most of these were kept well out of the way, only the photographs of the happy pair on their wedding day out in public, and even then, they were confined to her bedroom. The more visible images that dotted the palatial structure were of her children, Oliver and Thea. Those of the former demonstrated his growth from embarrassing toddler, to happy child, and eventually to confident adult. Thea's had yet to quite reach that stage, although they never failed to capture the adorableness of her younger years, eventually blossoming into beauty as she neared adulthood.

It was these that Moira had craved for most during her time in prison, the reminders of her past. The evidence that proved how her life had once been a good one, before everything went to the deepest pits of Hell six years ago. Not to mention, they did help blot out the rather unsavoury memories of her 'glorious return' to Queen Consolidated…

Moira cast the thought aside, returning her focus back to the photograph in her hands. It was one of Thea from when she was younger, before the horrors of Malcolm Merlyn and the Undertaking had ever been made known to her. Smiling wistfully at the image, she was distracted by the sound of another person entering the parlour. Looking up, she saw Oliver approaching.

"Hi." He said, an apologetic look growing over his features. "I'm sorry about what happened at the office this morning."

"There are a lot of people who think I got away with murder, Oliver." She noted simply, placing the picture back in its spot. "Maybe I did." Of course, she had been expecting a rather cold reception when she'd left for the family business that morning. She had been acquitted of her crimes by the jury, with the additional threats from Malcolm helping to push several of them into the decision that Aidan created during the trial. That did not mean that the city itself was ready to offer her the same second chance that she had already been granted. And, regardless of what had been said about her involvement, how she had been coerced and threatened in complying, she still felt the weight of guilt inside her at the thought of the casualties from that night.

"Mom, the trial, the Undertaking, Malcolm Merlyn, all of that is behind us now." Oliver told her, and Moira couldn't reign in the gratitude she felt towards her son's optimism, even if it was horribly misplaced. "And we need everyone to see that."

"How are we going to do that?" She asked sceptically. There was not a single idea in her mind about how to make people both see her side of the story, and forget about what Starling had been through recently, if only for a while. Carrying out the first one would most likely need a small miracle, _both_ together seemed an impossibility.

In hindsight, her son's answer really should not have surprised her. "We throw a party." He said decisively.

Moira was about to say no, to tell her son that there was a time for optimism and a time for common sense. The last thing she needed was the chance to show the entire city how alone she was when it came to supporters. She was prevented from doing so, however, as the pair was joined by more people.

"Thea. Roy." She said, greeting her daughter and the young man in turn. Her pleasure at their arrival, hoping to make them talk some sense into her son's head, was diminished somewhat by the spark she saw in the young woman's eye.

"Did I hear you guys say something about a party?" Thea asked. And, as much as she opposed the idea of the event, Moira was happy to see a bit more light in her daughter's face. She had been acting strangely over the past few days, the joy from the trial's outcome turning quickly into something the elder Queen didn't recognise, an almost indecipherable range of emotions. Although, from the number of times she had seen the young woman glance at her phone, a little hope spreading across her face each time she got a message or call chimed out, Moira could take a guess. She hadn't seen the young lawyer since the conclusion of the trial, and, given the worry and anger Thea seemed to be radiating most prominently over the last week, neither had her daughter.

"A 'welcome back to Queen Consolidated' party for mom." Oliver explained to his sister.

"I don't think so-" Moira started to protest before her son cut her off.

"If things are going to get back to normal, then we need to start acting normal." Oliver argued, countering her objections before she had a chance to raise them. "And normal for us is a lavish party." Moira had to admit, he did have _something_ of a point in terms of the Queen definition of normality. Still, it was still a challenge for her to see this as a good plan.

Before she could attempt to press her case again, however, the sound of a beeping phone distracted her. Reaching into his pocket, Roy pulled out the now-noisy device to take a look at the new message it had just received. He let out a sigh at whatever it was he saw. "Oh. I'm sorry, Mrs Queen, I can't stay." He apologised.

"I guess we got to go." Thea said, moving closer to press a kiss to Moira's cheek. "See you later." The two walked out under the watchful gazes of mother and son. Once they had gone, Oliver turned back to her, a smile on his face.

"I'll take care of everything." He promised before departing, as though to hold true to his words. Moira remained where she was, the grudging acceptance of her son's unavoidable plan almost blotted out by far darker thoughts. Thea's presence had served to unwittingly reignite her concerns surrounding Malcolm, or to be more precise, his new-found knowledge of parenthood. She had no doubt in her mind that he would try something, she knew him far too well to think otherwise. What and when were the elusive mysteries in all of this, and Moira had no idea about what any possible answer could be. And that lack of knowledge, the empty space of possibility, honestly scared her more than any certainly ever could.

Sighing, she let her eyes swivel back around to rest on the picture frame she had set down only a few minutes ago, a sense of wistful nostalgia warming her bones as she gazed at her daughter's smile. What she wouldn't give to go back to that time, before the cracks had truly begun to open up around her life, separating her from everything she had once known.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

"Why are we doing this again?" Sin asked from where she leant against one of the cleaner parts of the alley wall. The enclosed street was dingily lit, a few lights and a neon sign to accompany the lights from the street that forced their way up. Since Verdant was still a few hours from opening its doors for the night, the place was, for once, quiet, the only slight sounds coming from the alley's exit.

Well, those and her questioning.

"You know why." Aidan called out, and Sin had to tilt her head back a fair bit to see her friend. It had been less than a day since she'd found him, half-dead and steadily bleeding out in the Crypt. Not that anyone would be able to tell now, however. The two of them had been mystified by the speed of his recovery, looking to be as good as new, if not better, by midday. His pale skin had returned to its normal colouration, the familiar light was back in his eyes, and Aidan just seemed to be full of energy, more than he really had any right to possess. Honestly, Sin would have been hard pressed to even suggest that anything had happened to him just by observation. He seemed just like he always did.

That was, of course, until he'd hit the punching bag.

Sin had been about to resume her search for Mac, feeling a lot more confident than she had before, when the thick sound of leather on flesh had distracted her, while the noise of pouring sand that came only a second later helped to pull her head up to see what had caused it. The sight that had greeted her had been almost comical. Aidan was stood in front of the dangling punching bag, eyes as wide as saucers as he stared at his arm. The limb had passed straight through the leather target and out the other side, fist protruding from the thick surface as sand shifted through the gaps to fall in a small but growing heap on the floor beneath.

Despite the scene, however, there had been no laughter from either person present. Both had been temporarily frozen in shock, staring at the punctured piece of equipment with the same question running through their minds.

 _How the hell had he been able to do that?_

Once the ability to formulate words had returned to the duo, they had spent the next few hours trying to answer the questions of how he had been able to do that, and what he could do. The first was barely anything, although it was clearly linked to his disappearance, the memories of which were almost non-existent at best for the vigilante. For now, the only explanation could come from fantasy.

The second question, however, had been far easier to answer. Aidan's strength had clearly shot through the roof, a revelation that had cost them more than a few pieces of equipment, while, according to the man himself, his senses had somehow been heightened. Apparently, he could smell the traces of the shower gel she had used the night before, as well as hear the noise of the people in the bar above them and count the cracks in the bricks across the room from him. An impressive set of feats, and ones that definitely needed an explanation. Sin had attempted to get a blood sample from her friend to test out what had happened, but it was as though his skin was made of concrete. The needles hadn't been able too puncture it, and she had been forced to give up her efforts once the final metal spike had snapped. They had managed to acquire the sample, though, thanks to Aidan dragging his fingernail harshly enough over his arm, although the testing would still take a few days to complete.

And now, Sin watched as her friend dangled himself from a protruding pipe in the building opposite her. She could still see the small craters in the brickwork leading up to it where he had clambered up to the perch he'd suspended himself from for the last fifteen minutes. It seemed his endurance had also gotten a boost.

"I still don't see why I can't go on my own." She huffed. "It's not like it'd be the first time."

"I know that." Aidan acknowledged. With a job like Sin's, it was virtually impossible not to end up somewhere bad at least once. "But after what happened to me, and most likely Max too, there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight. Besides, you told me that Roy has ties to the Arrow. If we need to, at least we can contact him in a way that doesn't throw suspicion on us." After the newspapers had first reported on Damocles, Sin knew that Aidan was keen to not give Starling's main vigilante a chance to piece his identity together.

"But if I have to go with someone, why can't it just be you?" She pressed her argument, determined to at least try to breach her friend's stubbornness. "Like you said, what happened to you could have happened to Max. What if whoever did this to you showed up? The more of us there are, the more dangerous this is." Sin heard Aidan sigh quietly, before he let go of his handhold and dropped to the alley floor. She stepped forward in alarm as he landed, before noticing that nothing had happened, quickly remembering both her friend's newfound abilities and the copious training he'd undergone with Sara. After the injuries he'd shrugged off with only a scar to prove they had actually happened, even _before_ whatever the hell had happened, Sin really needed to stop being so surprised by these things.

"We have no idea what happened to me." He told her, stepping closer as any sign of humour drained from his face, leaving only dead seriousness. "Until we have something solid, I can't trust myself to do anything until there's actually some certainty over what I _can_ do. At least with Roy there, I have an added incentive to hold myself back." He paused for a moment, before the familiar warmth returned to his eyes. "Besides, three heads are better than one, right?"

Sin grinned slightly at her pseudo-brother's words, and was about to respond when Aidan's head jerked up and around, towards the doorway leading into Verdant. "Someone's coming." He told her, before frowning. "Two people."

"Where one goes, the other follows." Sin joked, pushing herself off from the wall and beginning to move towards the door, the sound of footsteps now audible. It was only a few seconds before Roy appeared, along with Thea, the girl's presence not surprising Sin in the slightest. Still, that didn't mean she was looking forward to hearing the Queen girl's view about her request. After her brief words with the vigilante fan in the hospital where they'd first properly met, she knew that Roy wasn't exactly keen on the young billionaire finding out about his 'side job'. Still, she supposed she hadn't been exactly clear in her message to him, and besides, by the way Aidan seemed to straighten just that little bit more at the arrival of the young woman, it was had to think of the surprise as a bad one. Although, Sin was beginning to wish her friend would just _get on with it._

The positive side of the added guest was dimmed slightly as Thea, after locking eyes with Aidan, marched up to him and, without warning, slapped him hard across the face, the force of the blow making even Sin wince. Her friend's head rocked to the side at the hit, although she wasn't entirely sure how much of that was real, and what was simply acting. Pain tolerance had never been a mystery to the young bar owner, and his new rock-hard shell was almost certainly capable to withstanding the, admittedly savage, attack. Thea's wrist didn't seem broken, however, and the red handprint on Aidan's cheek was rather impressive, powers or not.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Thea asked sharply. "You bail on me, and I don't even get a text?" Sin arched an eyebrow at the statement, and glanced at her best friend. As though he could read her mind, he shot another look back at her, one with a very clear meaning. _'Later.'_

"I am really sorry about that." He apologised, although he seemed to struggle in coming up with anything to follow. Sin couldn't blame him, especially with the death glare Thea had trained on him. The Queen girl was clearly still furious, and Roy looked as though he was very eager to move on from whatever had her so pissed, before she had a chance to turn her anger on anyone else or melt Aidan into a puddle.

"Sin, you said this was an emergency?" He started. Not the most subtle of topic changes, but she'd take it. As would Aidan, if the quick look of gratitude to the busboy was any indication.

Sin looked at Thea sideways for a moment, wary of the bubbling anger on the girl's face, regardless of its very clear focus on her friend. No offence, Thea, but you shouldn't be here for this." She said bluntly, wincing as the look was turned to her, albeit without the promise of a slow and painful death highlighted within.

"In the alleyway of the club I own?" She asked sarcastically, words heated in slight anger, although it did appear to be simmering somewhat.

Sin sighed, knowing that she might as well get on with it. "It's my friend Max." She began. "He's missing. I haven't seen him for a week, no one has. Aidan tried to look for him, but so far, we've come up with nothing." Peeling her eyes away from Thea, whose face now bore a look of surprise and slight embarrassment, she turned to Roy, fixing him with a knowing look. Something happened to him. We figured _you_ know someone who could help." She explained.

Roy froze at the words, clearly hesitant to say anything that might incriminate himself. Sin couldn't blame him. After all, she had essentially announced his connection to the Arrow in a way that left Thea with more than enough clues to put two and two together in regard to her friend's nocturnal activities. Both she and Roy, however, were surprised at who managed to save them.

"Roy can help you." Thea said confidently. Neither Sin nor Aidan had been expecting her to say anything like that, prepared more for an explosion from the young heiress, although it was clear that Roy was the most confused of the lot.

"I thought you wanted me to stay _out_ of trouble." The young man said pointedly, with the other two alley occupants silently wondering the same. Thea hadn't exactly made her demands of her ex a secret.

"I kind of like that you never turn away someone who needs help." The young Queen admitted, clapping the confused man on the shoulder. "I'll just get someone to cover the club." She said as she began to head back towards the open door.

"What do you mean?" Roy asked at once, while Sin could see Aidan's face tighten in concern slightly from the corner of her eye.

Thea glanced back at the trio staring at her. "Oh, I'm coming with you." She said, smirking slightly before disappearing into the club. Roy turned back, giving Sin a look, but she merely shrugged her shoulders in response before turning to her friend. Right now, she really didn't feel like trying to argue with _another_ stubborn idiot. One a day was enough for her.

"So, what was that with you and Thea?" She asked, her piqued curiosity unable to let the unexpected slap go unanswered.

Aidan sighed. "We were supposed to meet up a few days ago for lunch, kind of her way of thanking me for the trial. Guess I lost track of time." Sin understood. It had been while he was missing. And, because of that, there was no way he could come up with an excuse for himself that didn't merit some form of punishment.

Barely a minute later, and the door to Verdant opened once again as Thea re-joined the group. "Shall we go?" She asked, casting an expectant look around her before Aidan finally started moving, heading towards the end of the alley while the others followed. And, as she walked, Sin couldn't help but feel some of her scepticism concerning the 'investigation' fade away at the sense of the small group of friends around her. With more eyes and ears, and the link to another vigilante should they need it, finding Max didn't feel like such an impossible task.

And if they failed…well, they might at least be able to find some answers about what had happened.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Oliver hadn't been messing around when he'd decided to throw a 'welcome back' party. Moira could hear the faint sound of voices and movement from downstairs as everything was set up for tomorrow night. The dedication her son was displaying was commendable, yet still, a part of her was begging to the activity to end, for the planned event to simply be removed from her home.

She still found it a struggle to recognise the logic behind a party in her honour, especially after the legal nightmare they had only just emerged from. She was free, sure, but there were almost certainly hundreds of people in the city that still despised her, who cursed her for murdering their loved ones, and who wanted nothing more than to see her life brought to an abrupt end. The elder Queen knew these people existed, and she knew that others in the city, in the societal circles through which she had once moved, were aware of this as well. They wouldn't exactly be in a hurry to risk turning this wrath on themselves when there still remained the easy alternative of leaving it on her shoulders, the target staying firmly on her own back.

Regardless of her doubts, however, Moira steeled herself in preparation. She would be going through this, good idea or not. Who knew, maybe the night might turn out to be a success? And, even if it wasn't, Oliver was clearly determined to move away from the dark shadows of her trial, to try and establish some sense of normalcy. The least she could do was go along with her son's plan, for his and Thea's sakes if not her own.

Closing the door to her room, which thankfully managed to muffle the noise coming from below, she barely had enough time to take a breath before she was startled by an all too familiar voice.

"I hear you're throwing a party." Moira couldn't hold in her gasp as she spun to see Malcolm Merlyn standing by the French doors that led out to the patio. "I didn't get my invite."

She froze for a moment, fighting through her shock and fear as she composed herself before responding, doing her best to channel the woman she had once been into her words. "Where exactly should I have addressed it?" She asked acerbically. "Starling City cemetery?" Not that she would've had a problem with that, if only this monster had had the decency to _stay dead._

"I know that's where you wish I was right now." Malcolm started. "Lying beside my son." Moira felt her blood heat up slightly at the mention of the young man she still saw as a son.

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you, Malcolm?" She asked, her tongue filled with acid. "You killed Tommy. You killed your son. You cannot have my daughter." It didn't take a genius to figure out why he was here in the first place, after all.

" _Our_ daughter." The murderous Merlyn said, cutting her off. He slowly began to move closer. "I think we both needed someone that night. I felt so bad about betraying Rebecca's memory that I left Starling. Left Tommy behind. That's when I made my way to Nanda Parbat, where I found my new purpose." He smirked at her, the cruel expression laced with irony. "In a way, Moira, you made me the man I am today."

"Thea is innocent." Moira argued, her voice tinged with fear as she ignored his barb, fighting instead to protect _her_ daughter. Her time with Malcolm had been one of the greatest mistakes of her life, but that didn't mean she was going to let him take one of the only bright lights she had left in her life. "She loved Robert. Please don't take that away from her. I'm begging you." She might as well have been pleading with a brick wall.

"Thea is all I have left." Malcolm said coldly, his eyes devoid of any shred of compassion, not that she expected to find any. "Tell her the truth, and tell her soon." He turned and headed back the way he had come, leaving Moira in the room as she fought to hold back the tears in her eyes, at least until she could be certain that she was alone. That man had destroyed her life once already, and now he was trying to take HER daughter away. She refused to give that bastard the satisfaction of making her cry, even as the terror he so easily inspired began to creep further up her spine.

Slowly, however, the fear inside Moira was replaced by an icy cold resolve, and she straightened her back as a plan began to form in her mind. Maybe Malcolm was right, maybe she had played some part in turning him into who he was now. And now, it was finally time to undo her mistake.

Casting her eye around for her phone, she grabbed the device and punched in the numbers she needed. Malcolm wasn't the only one with associates, and she had a feeling that one of her few remaining contacts would be able to find something on this _Nanda Parbat._

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Oliver's day had not been going well. Ever since the break-in investigation that morning, it was like an old terror had been creeping up on him, hiding in the recesses of his mind but still inescapably there. From the moment he had first seen the security footage, Oliver had been worried. That kind of raw strength simply wasn't natural, serving in reminding him of the last time he had seen something like it, about five years ago. He had hoped to whatever power there was in the universe that his suspicions were wrong, while the surprise arrival and involvement of Barry Allen had further helped to take his mind off things, shifting his suspicions from old nightmares to present concerns. There was something about that man that felt off, something in his story that practically screamed _fake._ Whatever it was, it had been enough to let his worry slide carefully to another part of his mind.

Of course, it had returned with even greater force when Felicity and Barry had come to him with the unexpected traces of sugar found in the thief's footprints, accompanied by the news of a stolen sugar delivery van being used to rob a blood bank. The little vice at the back of his mind had grown increasingly louder at the discovery, forcing Oliver to face the chance that, unless sweet-toothed vampires had suddenly started popping up in Starling, there was the potential for his suspicions, if they could be categorized as such, to be correct after all. He had once again forced the idea away, refusing to even answer Diggle's queries as he planned his next move. There had to be another explanation, he had forced himself into thinking as he'd suited up to go after the rogue van, something other than what he truly feared it to be.

And now, his denial had finally brought him full circle.

"Yeooww!" Oliver yelped in pain as Felicity taped up his ribs. That bastard in the faceless mask really knew how to throw a punch.

"Sorry." The blonde IT whiz apologised softly, doing her best to be as gentle as possible in her ministrations, which was not an easy task.

Oliver pulled on a sweatshirt as Felicity finally finished sorting out the injury, wincing slightly as the movement shot pain up his side. "Thank you." He said quietly to the girl, before taking a breath as he turned to face Diggle. "You were right to ask if I knew more than I was letting on." He admitted to the burly bodyguard. There wasn't much point in refusing things any further. "I've seen men with abilities like this before."

"You have?" Felicity asked, as surprised as the ex-soldier at the revelation. "Where?"

"The Island." He said tiredly. This was far from his favourite topic of discussion, but it needed to happen. "My second year marooned there, we- I came across the remains of a Japanese World War Two military project." Oliver explained, careful to leave out any reference to his companions in the story. There was enough on the table to deal with right now. "It was a serum designed to create human weapons."

"Human weapons?" Diggle scoffed, clearly disbelieving. Not that the archer could blame him. "My God, what's next, aliens?"

"This is real, Diggle." Oliver said sharply. As incredible as it was, the sooner his team grasped the reality of the situation, the better. "Those five years that I was away, I came across things that just defy explanation." He let out a sigh as he continued. "There was a doctor, his name was Ivo, and he came to the island to test the serum on people. The ones that survived, their endurance, reflexes and strength were all enhanced."

"And you think this Ivo's in Starling City?" Diggle asked. Oliver shook his head.

"He's dead." He said confidently. "And so is everyone that he injected with the serum. The last of which I burned."

"You think someone found the recipe." Diggle quickly surmised.

"The centrifuge and a large supply of blood." Oliver stated, going over what they already had. "I think someone wants to make more of it. A lot more."

Felicity's sad sigh caught his attention at his prediction. "Why couldn't you have been marooned on Aruba?" He heard her mutter. Honestly, it wasn't exactly something he hadn't considered himself on more than one occasion.

"There's a third component- a strong sedative." Oliver revealed. Taking a grip of the bloody arrow he'd been able to pull from the 'blank', the metal tip bent in several places, he handed it over to Felicity. She took it timidly, clearly not enjoying even touching the weapon.

"I think I preferred it when you left these in people." She noted sourly.

"I need you to analyse the blood on the arrowhead." He ordered the blonde. "If we can figure out which sedative they're using- "

"We can figure out where the next robbery will be." Diggle finished.

"Barry and I will get right on it." Felicity said, before facing Oliver. "Are you going to be calling your other vigilante buddy about this?"

Ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth at the mention of the Central City CSI, Oliver considered the question. Damocles hadn't been spotted recently, the absence beginning a few days after the trial, and the archer felt a little concerned at the disappearance. From what he'd picked up on in their previous work, the skull-faced man didn't seem like someone who would stay out of the field voluntarily for too long. Hell, he'd seen the man take a knife to the gut, only to be back on patrol in the space of a week. And, from the newspaper article that had brought the vigilante into the eyes of the city, he was clearly capable of handling a fair amount of danger. Still, the man's no-show for the past several days did raise a fair number of questions.

"We'll wait to see how the analysis turns out." He finally decided. Once they knew what they were targeting next, and who it was the blank was working for, then he'd look a little bit closer into the whereabouts of the newly-minted 'guardian of the Glades'.

"I think our Miss Smoak is smitten." Diggle noted as Felicity walked off, and Oliver frowned as his concerns around the young CSI returned to the forefront of his mind.

"Diggle, what did you find out about Mr Allen?" He asked the bodyguard quietly. The unease in his chest refused to abate, and Oliver would take any source he had to determine the risk or otherwise the young man posed.

"He's not who he says he is." Dig replied, and the bow-wielding vigilante felt his face set into stone as he listened to what the dark-skinned veteran had discovered, his mind working overtime under the surface. What exactly had he expected? At least now the grating on his nerves surrounding the baby-faced scientist had some footing. The only question now was what to do about him.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The sun was almost over the horizon as Sin twisted the handle of the door to the small apartment, Aidan, Thea and Roy stood behind her. The group of four had spent most of the night spreading slowly across the city, searching for Max in as many of his typical hangouts as the information specialist could think of. The work had been relatively easy, thanks both to the numbers they had and the fact that Max, while struggling as much as anyone else in the Glades, had managed to avoid heading into the rougher areas, or at least only touched the fringes. It had still been several hours of fruitless endeavour, however, and had begun to leave something of a mark on all those involved.

Still, Aidan considered as he stepped into the cramped apartment behind his friend, this was the last call in their search, at least for the time being. Maybe this would bring to light some clue that would help decipher this puzzle. Although, considering the luck they'd had so far, he wasn't exactly expecting any radical discovery.

"Ohh." Thea gagged as she stepped in, covering her nose in defence. "It reeks in here." She wasn't wrong. The stench was bordering on repulsive, and Aidan's newly-heightened nose wrinkled as he looked around. Max clearly hadn't been here in a while, or the place wouldn't have been nearly as bad as it was. Messy, sure, but at least with breathable air.

"I guess your friend wasn't too into painting seascapes." The young Queen quipped. Aidan turned to look at what she saw, only to freeze as his eyes locked onto the sight. Dotted against one side of the room, unnoticed to him before now, there were dozens of paintings, ranging in size and placed everywhere, on any available surface. They littered the floor, rested against the wall, some remaining on the easels that they had come from.

And all showed the same image- a creepy looking skull, one that was eerily familiar to Aidan's eyes.

Focusing on the nearest piece of 'artwork', the young vigilante's vision began to flicker as something clicked in his mind, a repressed memory coming to the forefront with a ferocious strength.

… _dark, cold…straps, keeping him in place…someone staring at him, eyes peering out of a leathery skull…a needle pricking his arm, something green going in…'Blood is power'…_

The shadowy images couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds before Aidan came back to reality, but it might as well have lasted for hours. He felt cold, with a thin layer of ice-cold sweat layering his forehead. Glancing down at his hands, he saw the fingers shaking slightly as he raised them up. And, somewhere deep in his stomach, he could feel an emptiness, one that made him want to throw up and resonated with…fear?

"Are you ok?" He started slightly at the question, turning to see Sin standing next to him, a look of concern over her features. Aidan gave the other two a quick glance before leaning in closer, struggling to control the shaking that was extending all over him.

"I've seen that thing before." He whispered, gesturing subtly to the paintings. "Whoever took me was wearing something like that. They…injected me with something." Sin's eyes widened as she absorbed what he had said, before examining the picture closely.

"It's like an evil version of yours." She joked, and Aidan chuckled, appreciating her attempt to cheer him up, even if the chill never left the back of his neck.

"I like to think mine's a _little_ cooler." He replied, pretending to sound offended. Sin smiled, the genuine one that was saved for only a select few, and looked ready to say something else before she was interrupted.

"Hey, this blood drive was a week ago." Roy said, picking a small pamphlet off the floor and holding it up. It was an ad for a local blood drive, sponsored by Sebastian Blood. Aidan remember hearing about the event. He'd not gone himself, the bar had needed his attention that day, but it had still been a popular event for many in the Glades. And, considering how strapped for cash Max usually was, according to Sin, he wasn't surprised that the event had attracted the young artist.

"When did you say he went missing?" Roy asked, and Aidan watched as an odd look passed briefly over Sin's face, one that he had seen many times before when the two of them were working over one case or another.

"That day." She said, looking at the date, and Aidan could feel something in his own mind shift as the pieces slowly began to come together.

The four of them didn't stay much longer, the lack of further evidence combining with the slowly-overpowering smell brining their search to a fairly quick conclusion. As they left the building, back into the crisp and relatively clean air of the early morning Glades, Aidan looked around carefully, the habits drilled into him over his life taking hold. The streets were practically devoid of life, the only sign of activity being the squad car that had not been there when they'd arrived. As his attention passed over the vehicle, Aidan's newly-sensitive ears picked up on a muffled voice coming through the glass, the words, though illegible, still managing to raise the hairs on the back of his neck. It didn't take a genius to put the signs together and come up with the truth. Someone was watching them.

"Aidan?" The call by his side pulled him from his focus on the cop car, and he turned to see Thea watching him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He replied, grinning slightly. "A little tired, that's all." Thea smiled, seeming to buy his excuse, before her features took on a nervous look.

"Look, I was wondering." She began. "There's a-a party at my place tonight, and I was wondering if, maybe, you'd like to come?" It took almost the entirety of Aidan's self-control to keep his jaw from hitting the concrete beneath his feet. He had honestly _never_ seen Thea look so nervous before, not even when he, Roy and Moira had confronted her at Iron Heights.

Shaking the amazement from his mind, he realised that several seconds had already passed by, the look on Thea's face having begun the fall from hopeful to disappointed and embarrassed. He should probably respond.

"Uh, y-yeah, of course." He stuttered, another grin turning up the corners of his mouth after a moment. "I'd love to." Thea's smile matched his own only a second later.

"Cool." She said, the nerves vanishing in the blink of an eye. "I'll see you there. It starts at eight." Thea turned, giving Sin a quick farewell as she did so, before leaving, almost running to catch up with Roy. Aidan just stared after her in slight bemusement.

"Got another date, I see." Sin remarked, mouth fixed into her usual cheeky smirk. "You sure do move fast, don't you?"

"It's not a date." Aidan objected, although even he could tell how half-hearted the words were.

"Whatever you say, buddy." Sin acquiesced, even if the look in her eyes showed her sense of triumph on the matter.

"Oh, shut up." Aidan mock-ordered, reaching around her shoulders to wrap his arm around her, albeit incredibly gently. Until he'd properly tested out the level of control he had over his strength, he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Come on." Sin said after a second, pulling herself free of his hold and grabbing his arm. "Let's go get something to eat. I'm starving!"

Aidan just laughed as, not for the first time, he let himself be dragged along by his snarky little street rat of a pseudo-sister. He was pretty hungry as well, and besides, it wasn't as though he had anything planned until that evening. Their investigations could wait for a few hours at least.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Night had fallen over the Queen mansion, and Thea was waiting for her mother at the top of the stairs that led down to the parlour. She could hear the classical music coming from the room below, along with the muffled sounds of people talking. As she listened, Thea allowed a small bubble of hope to swell up in her heart. Maybe the night wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe Ollie was right, that this could be the chance for their mother to rebuild her life, to pick up where she'd left off.

Smoothing an invisible crease in her dress, Thea couldn't help but look forward to what the night may bring. Not just for her mother, but also for herself. Roy was already downstairs, having arrived before the party had even begun, while Aidan had also agreed to show up. The Queen heiress wasn't going to kid herself, she had been more than a little nervous when she had first approached the young man with the offer. She couldn't explain _why_ , exactly, but something about Aidan just set off a strange feeling in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to settle the sensation that had risen up at the simple thought of the bar owner. Perhaps tonight, she might find an opportunity to at least figure out this feeling.

Thea was pulled from her musings at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Turning, she saw her mother walking towards her with Oliver at her side, the former wearing one of her favourite dresses while the latter was decked out in a stylish tuxedo.

"Wow." Thea said, hugging her mother briefly before making a show of looking her over. "You look incredible, mom."

"Thank you, sweetie." The elder Queen replied. "And might I say, you look absolutely beautiful."

"Shall we head down?" Oliver suggested, smiling at the two other Queens. "Wouldn't want the woman of the hour to be late, after all."

Thea just smiled as the trio began to head down the steps and into the mansion's foyer, careful not to fall behind the rest of her family. As they turned onto the final flight of stairs, she saw a pretty blonde woman waiting for them. Thea quickly recognised her as Oliver's personal assistant, although her name managed to escape. It started with an F, was it Felicia? Fiona?

"Hey. How's everything going in there?" Oliver asked the woman. Rather than respond to her boss' question, however, she looked to Thea and her mother, a smile brightening her face.

"Good evening, Queens." She said politely, before casting a pointed look at Oliver. "Can I have a word?"

"Yeah." Oliver said, before leading the woman away. Thea couldn't hear what was being said, but refused to focus on it, instead heading towards the entrance to the parlour with her mother.

At the sight that greeted the two Queens, however, she stopped, the hopeful bubble inside her deflating into nothing as she looked around the room.

The nearly empty room.

There was a three-string orchestra playing classical music near the tall windows, while a bar had been set up to serve drinks on the far side of the room. The part that truly stood out, however, was the fact that there were only about half a dozen people that had actually showed up.

"I guess these days, I only draw a crowd when I'm on trial for murder." The elder Queen said glibly. The lack of people didn't seem to have really affected the woman, but Thea couldn't help it as her face fell at the sight. Why on earth she'd thought this would turn out well was quite frankly beyond her right now.

She placed a comforting hand on her mother's arm. "Mom, we don't have to-" She began.

"We have guests." Her mother silenced her gently, a determined smile on her face. "However few of them there are." She walked into the room confidently and quickly began to greet the few that had shown up. And Thea could only watch as the corners of her lips twitched upwards at the sight. It was good to see this side of her mother once again. She always had been pretty sturdy in the face of unrest.

Catching the look on her brother's face, she stepped over to him. "This is not your fault, Ollie." She whispered to him comfortingly. He remained silent, however, and Thea made her way into the room, moving over to Roy, dressed in a sharp-looking suit. Failure or not, she could at least try to enjoy herself tonight.

"How's your mom doing?" Roy asked as she reached him. Thea forced a smile on her face.

"Oh, you know us Queen women." She said confidently, just about managing to hide her true feelings of the lacklustre event. "Nothing gets to us."

"You must take after your dad." Roy quipped in response, and Thea chuckled, fake smile giving way to a very real one.

The moment was interrupted, however, as Roy's phone rang. "Sorry." He apologised as he answered the call, briefly glancing at the caller ID. "Sin. What's up?" Thea's ears perked up immediately, curious as to what the Glades girl was calling about.

There was a pause as Sin spoke to Roy, the inaudible words bringing a frown to Roy's face. "Where?" He asked, the frown deepening further after a second. "I'm on my way." He said, before ending the call.

"They find Max?" Thea asked, curiosity almost palpable.

"Um, no." Roy replied, a slightly hesitant look flashing through his eyes for a second. "She just wants me to stop by."

"I can come with you." She offered hopefully. As much as she loved her mother, Thea wouldn't exactly say no to a chance to leave right now. Besides, the snarky Glades girl had definitely started to grow on her.

"You should stay here. Your mom needs you." Roy shot the idea down, although she couldn't deny the truth in his statement. "I'll call you later." He promised, before vanishing through the parlour door. Thea let out a sigh as she was left alone, her mind running in a thousand different directions as she eventually headed towards one of the guests to mingle. She was stuck here for now, the least she could do was try and make the night at least somewhat bearable for her and her mother.

After a few minutes spent talking to one of the handful of people that had bothered to turn up, Thea's ears picked up on something behind her. New voices coming from the door leading to the entrance hall. Turning her head to look, she had no intention of suppressing the smile that grew on her face as she saw who had arrived. Two new people stood in the doorway, one a complete stranger to her, while the other was almost beautifully familiar. There, in a slim-fitting suit and cheerful grin, was Aidan, and Thea didn't know if she'd ever been happier to see anyone, aside from Ollie's return the year before.

This night had suddenly gotten a lot more bearable.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Kicking the stand of his bike down, Aidan slipped his leg over the machine to stand up straight beside it, pulling off his battered leather jacket as he did so. Below the protective clothing, his shirt and tie had wrinkled slightly, while the suit trousers were creased in multiple spots, the result of the constant vibrations they had been subjected to over the twenty-minute journey. Cursing under his breath, Aidan lifted up the motorcycle seat to reach the compartment underneath, swapping out the leather jacket for the carefully folded suit jacket that had been stowed, complete. Pulling the coal black piece of smart attire on, he smoothed down the creases before straightening the dark blue tie. He wasn't going to lie, these clothes felt _good_.

His day leading up to this point had been… interesting, to say the least. After he and Sin had eaten, the younger woman claiming that his face had never lost the slightly dreamy expression Aidan fervently denied having, they had decided to test out exactly what he was capable of. There was an old warehouse that hadn't been used in years, still filled with a wide assortment of abandoned junk, that they had used as an impromptu testing ground, the two friends spending hours running him through multiple 'trials'. Aside from his new-found strength, Aidan had discovered the additional boosts to his endurance and stamina, while had speed and reflexes, experimented by Sin making liberal use of a tennis ball throwing machine, had also grown. Aidan hadn't even bothered hiding his excitement at the abilities. With these on his side, the task of protecting the Glades, and even the rest of the city when he needed to, suddenly seemed a hell of a lot easier. He could do three hours' worth of work in less than one, protecting more people for even longer. Hell, given the new toughness to his skin and the rush in his veins, Aidan felt like there was nothing that could stop him now.

But still, with this exhilaration came a sense of worry. These abilities, as incredible as they were, required control, something he had been finding hard to learn. The veritable mountain of broken equipment in the Crypt could attest to that, as could the brand-new pile of scrap metal they'd left in the old warehouse. He'd already come leaps and bounds so far in mastering these new gifts, and maybe time would bring with it a level of total control, but until then, Aidan knew he could not afford to lose the slightly-tenuous grip he had. And, hand in hand with this danger came another thought, a question that was honestly scary to think about. Who or what had given him these abilities? Aidan knew he'd been kidnapped, that he'd been injected with something. Whoever had orchestrated his disappearance was clearly not the nicest of guys, and, if he took a closer look, Aidan was sure that there was a high chance of finding other unexplained disappearances alongside those of himself and Max. The thought of this sent a cold shiver down the young man's spine, while also conjuring another inevitable question: what was whoever had taken him planning?

Shaking his head free of the mental whirlpool, Aidan began the short walk up to the mansion's doors, gravel crunching under his feet. Hopefully, tonight would be able to set his mind at ease, at least for a while. Sin had pretty much forced him into his suit when he'd reconsidered going to the party. Regardless of his combat-honed skills or new-found abilities, the snarky girl had the power to practically bring him to his knees in surrender with nothing more than a few choice words and a piercing look he was certain she'd picked up from Sara. She had frogmarched him to his bike, 'instructing' him to take the opportunity to enjoy himself for the night. And Aidan was far too scared of the Glades girl to even consider disobeying her.

And so, here he was, about fifteen minutes late as he made his way into the stately home of the one of Starling's wealthiest, and formerly most powerful, family.

The place was certainly impressive. The ornate front door led to an entrance hall that clearly showed the grandeur of the building and its residents. Two staircases led up to the upper floor, while large glass windows gazed down from above and behind. The furnishings were tasteful yet still rich, and Aidan could very easily get the sense that the mansion was well lived in rather than being simply an attractive mausoleum, a symbol of family as well as fortune.

He was distracted from further contemplation by the heavy bang that sounded behind him. Turning in surprise, Aidan saw a young man stood in the open doorway, brushing himself off after having apparently bumped into the wooden doorframe, a sheepish look on his face as he spotted the other man.

"Are you alright?" Aidan asked, backtracking towards the man. He nodded quickly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." The man said quickly. "Guess I wasn't looking where I was going. I mean, obviously I wasn't, otherwise I wouldn't have walked into it in the first place-"The young man didn't seem to know when, or how, to stop the torrent of words, and Aidan quickly raised his hands in a placating manner.

"Calm down, man." He said, unable to suppress the chuckle that snuck its way into his voice. "Happens to everyone, no need to apologise." He stretched out a hand. "Name's Aidan, by the way."

"Barry Allen." The man- Barry- replied, shaking the proffered hand with a smile.

"Nice to meet you." Aidan said, dropping the handshake and gesturing to where the music was drifting towards the pair. "Shall we?" Barry nodded, and the two began to move.

"So, how'd you wind up here?" Aidan asked. There was something about this guy he liked, although he didn't know what. Just a friendly sort of aura.

"I got invited." Barry answered. "I've been working with Mr Queen on something, and his assistant asked me to come." There was something missing from the story, a part left out, but Aidan didn't press the issue. "You?"

"The Queen asked me to." Aidan said easily. "Couldn't exactly say no, could I?"

By this point, the two had reached the doorway to the parlour, where the party was being held. Aidan couldn't help but notice how few people there were, but gave the information a mental shrug. Even after acquittal, there weren't many in society's 'upper echelons' that would be willing to rub elbows with a woman of Moira Queen's reputation.

The thought was dropped altogether, however, as Aidan saw Thea approaching, wide smile on her face. He returned the grin with one of his own, before pulling the Queen girl into a brief hug. A familiar burning sensation itched the side of his head, and the young vigilante had no doubts that Oliver had noticed his arrival.

"You came." Thea said happily as she pulled away, smile still on her face.

"Of course I did." Aidan replied, smiling down at his friend. "Like I'd leave you in the lurch again. You're my friend, there's no way I'd leave you on your own here." Thea clearly appreciated the words, although something flitted through her eyes for a second. Aidan couldn't tell what it was, he barely caught it in the first place, but he put it aside as he was dragged towards the bar in the corner of the room.

"Come on, let's get something to drink." She said. "Then, I want a dance."

"Whatever you say, m'lady." Aidan agreed, grin fixed on his face as he allowed the young Queen to direct his movement.

A flash of blond caught his eye as he moved, and Aidan cast a quick look around the room. There, on the makeshift dance floor, Barry was dancing with a blonde woman, both looking to be enjoying themselves despite the near-constant missteps of the young man. As the pair turned, Aidan caught sight of the woman's face, and he felt a flash of familiarity pass through his mind. It took roughly a second to connect the sensation to its memory. The Dollmaker hunt, the woman that the Arrow had used as bait. This was her. And, remembering the horrific motel room they had visited beforehand, Aidan was willing to hedge a bet that the woman was named 'Felicity'. So, she was working for the Arrow? Aidan's eyes trailed past the dancing pair for a second, to see Oliver Queen watching the two, brow bent into a slight frown. That look alone tickled Aidan's mind, as did the eyes that stared at the pair, although the idea it suggested was ludicrous.

Wasn't it?

He shook the thought from his mind as he came to a halt, turning his focus back to Thea as she got the two of them drinks. He was here to spend time with his friend, not expose the identity of Starling's most notorious archery enthusiast. That could wait until later, when he had a chance to properly go over the evidence at his fingertips.

Tonight was about enjoying himself. And that, Aidan thought as he took a sip from the glass Thea had given him, the alcohol burning his throat and warming his stomach, was exactly what he planned to do.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Sin was thoroughly pissed off with Starling City's _finest._

She had been looking for her friends for three days straight. This had been practically on her own, since there wasn't a single cop who would care about two no-names from the Glades. If they'd gotten involved, Sin would likely never hear from either missing persons again. That, or she'd find their obituaries in the news. And so, she had set herself to task and, after hard work and a small miracle, she had found Aidan. But still, Max was gone, and so she had kept looking, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. After all, this was the Glades, and she only had so much luck.

Still, she supposed that she had found her friend in the end, or at least his body. That was more than could be said for most who lost people in the Glades. And what was happening now? Some of the city's boys in blue were trying to force her away from her friend, in the name of an ' _investigation_ '. What a load of crap!

"Max! Get off, let go!" Sin screamed at the uniformed figures currently attempting to drag her away. "Max! Get off of me!" The urge to lash out at these morons was almost overwhelming, the training she had received from Aidan and Sara giving way to a raw aggression that begged to be let out. It wouldn't take much, but still, she had no desire to end up in a police cell for God knows how long. That didn't stop her from trying to resist via conventional means.

"Hey! Let her go." Looking up at the shout, Sin saw Roy approaching the 'crime scene', anger growing in his eyes as he glared at the officers holding her up. "Cut it out!"

Sin was quick to balance herself as the police let her go, practically shoving her at Roy before stalking off.

"Stupid cops." She snarled. "They're saying Max OD'ed." The lazy explanation was enough to light a raging fire in her chest, the very thought simply ridiculous.

"Was he using?" Roy asked. The question, while an innocent one of simply inquisitiveness, did nothing to cool Sin down.

"No!" She said hotly. "He made extra cash donating blood. You really think the hospital would let him be a donor if he was an addict?" Seriously, anyone with half a brain would be able to at least test their theory before slapping it to a case. Still, Sin wasn't sure what else to expect. This was the Glades, stuff like overdoses happened pretty much on a daily basis.

Part of her wished she had called Aidan. He at least would understand how she was feeling. With him here, they could have gathered some information, maybe already have a plan on how to act next. A larger part of Sin, however, knew that doing so would only be speeding towards the inevitable. She hadn't slept properly in days, the intel wouldn't exactly be going anywhere, and the two of them could work out a plan of action once her head was back on straight. Besides, Sin was the one who had managed to get him to go to Thea's mom's party in the first place. After everything that had happened recently, he could use a night off. Not to mention, maybe his _quality time_ with little miss Queen would get him to finally make a move. Having watched the looks between the two of them for weeks, along with Aidan's slightly wistful look whenever the young Queen was brought up, Sin was honestly only a few steps away from locking the pair in a closet.

Not to mention that, thanks to Roy's presence, Sin had no doubt that there'd soon be _two_ vigilantes looking in to whoever it was that had taken her friends.

She saw Roy glance around for a second, watching the cops that had drawn somewhere else. The young man quickly slipped past the police barricade and ran towards the body, phone appearing in his hand as he pointed it at Max's face. The bloody tears leaking out of the eyes of her friend's corpse sparked something in Sin's mind, and she thought back to where she had seen it before.

Aidan. She suddenly remembered the vigilante's face when she'd been patching him up, just over a day ago. He'd been virtually covered in blood, but she was sure that there had been some trailing from his eyes. Storing the information away, she waited as Roy returned, ignoring the call from one of the cops.

"Let's go." Roy said as he reached her, one arm reaching around her shoulders as he led her away. As they moved, Sin felt an itching on the back of her neck, as though someone was watching her. She ignored the sensation as best she could, focusing her mind on considering the question that rolled around her head.

Someone had clearly taken both Aidan and Max, and had given them something that empowered the former and killed the latter. But who had done it? And, if they'd already done it to her two friends, had they done it to anyone else?

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

As he stepped into the alley, Oliver was not in a patient mood. Felicity had analysed the blood he had retrieved from the faceless man, with Allen's help, and had managed to work out a probable location for his next attack. The A.R.G.U.S. disaster bunker had exactly what the man, and his boss, needed, and Oliver knew that the strike would come sooner rather than later. He needed to be there now.

Which was why the signal from Roy Harper only served to grate on his patience and control.

"What?" He growled shortly, voice modulator hiding his identity. Roy stopped his pacing at the question, turning to face the vigilante as he did so.

"I need your help." The young Glades man said. "A friend of mine's friend, well, the cops think he OD'ed, but we think he was murdered."

"Why?"

"Well, he wasn't an addict, for starters." Roy explained. Reaching into his pocket, the young man showed the vigilante the picture on the screen. Someone, the friend's friend, dead on the street, with bloody tears streaking from his eyes. "And this…this doesn't look like any OD I've ever seen."

Oliver barely heard the words, however, his entire focus fixed on the frozen image in front of him. Those tears ignited a memory in his head, the same sight from five years ago. And he didn't even try to suppress his horror at the sight of his nightmare's return. "Stay away from that." He ordered.

"You know something?" Roy asked, ignoring the command. "What happened to him?" Oliver remained silent, refusing to provide any information. What had happened to the man in the photo was far too deadly for Roy to get involved with. His silence, however, only served to enrage the young man. "You're the one who told me to be your eyes and ears on the streets. You know what, that is not good enough for me anymore!"

"Fine." Oliver ground out. "Then we're done altogether." He started to walk away. Right now, he had far bigger issues to worry about.

"I don't need you! I have friends that can help me." Roy shouted from behind him, and Oliver only just suppressed his groan. The kid just _had_ to have the last word, didn't he? "You can't stop us." The sound of footsteps told Oliver that Roy was moving away, likely to go meet up with his 'friends', and knew that there was only one way he could make his command sink in, before the idiot got himself killed.

"Slow you down." He growled, before spinning around and firing an arrow towards the retreating figure. The shaft slammed into Roy's leg, in one of the areas that, while being extremely painful, wouldn't cause him to bleed out. Not immediately, at any rate. Turning back around, he began to move away, leaving the wounded ex-informant behind him.

Whatever consequences his action would generate could wait until later. He had work to do.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The party was finally over. Moira couldn't say that she hadn't appreciated the gesture from Oliver, nor that she hadn't enjoyed the evening. Aside from one very unwelcome guest, it had been relatively pleasant. The stigma that surrounded her would never truly vanish, she never expected it to, but it was a nice step back towards the life she had left behind, even if it was well over six years since she had last truly lived it. Even the black cloud of Malcolm's demand failed to truly darken her time.

And, if all went as planned, then she'd never have to worry about his shadow over her or her family again.

Reaching to pour herself a nightcap, she was going to need one after the night's events, Moira paused at the sound of the floorboards creaking softly behind her. "And I thought it couldn't hurt to add extra security guards." She said drily, turning to face Malcolm with more confidence than she'd had in a long time.

"It hurt them." He said, tossing the guns he held onto the floor. "Have you told Thea yet?" Moira braced herself for what came next.

"No." She said, putting the stopper back on the bottle as if to emphasise her point. "You will not go near Thea, you will not speak to her, and you will never set foot in this house again." With every word, Moira could see Malcolm growing angrier and angrier.

"I set you free, Moira." The monster masquerading as a man seethed, moving closer. "Your life belongs to me." Had this conversation taken place anytime before today, the clear threat in his words would have worked. Now, though, Moira just found them amusing.

She turned to face Malcolm properly at last, staring him dead in the eye. "Aidan Maddox set me free, not you." She said calmly, fire burning through her entire being. "And I am through being afraid of you."

Malcolm chuckled. "Ah yes, the young lawyer." He mused, seemingly ignoring the second half of her statement. "He was here tonight, wasn't he? Thea's guest, if I remember correctly. I have been considering bringing him into my employ. A man of such talent would prove quite useful. And if not, well," he paused, "he might just provide an added incentive."

"You will stay away from him." Moira demanded. Malcolm only met this with another round of mocking chuckles.

"You think you can stop me?" He asked with a smirk, and Moira knew he was referring to both HER daughter and her young friend. "Even the vigilante couldn't kill me."

"No, he couldn't." Moira admitted, choosing to hold back how close he had come. "But I know someone who can. Ra's al Ghul."

The effect on Malcolm was clear, his expression almost priceless as he was taken aback by her words. "How do you know that name?" He asked warily, a slight undertone of fear lacing the question.

This time, it was Moira who took great pleasure in smirking at her opponent. "Well, I didn't. Until you mention Nanda Parbat." Malcolm stayed as still as a statue, face expressionless as Moira continued. "The League of Assassins, however twisted their aims, believes very deeply in a code of honour. Your undertaking betrayed that code." She explained, as if talking to a small child. After six years of almost constant fear, it felt good to finally cut loose.

"You told Ra's I'm still alive?" Malcolm asked, a slight quiver in his voice as he spoke.

"He was _so grateful_ to hear it." Moira revealed, enjoying every second of it. "Because he _so_ very much wants to kill you himself. So my advice to you, Malcolm: Run."

The smile that graced Malcolm's face at her threat couldn't help but unsettle Moira somewhat, even if she refused to let it show. He seemed almost proud at what she had done, that she had beaten him at his own game. "This isn't finished, Moira." He promised as he finally turned away and walked out of the room, back to whatever hole he had been hiding in.

As he vanished, Moira brought her drink up to her mouth, downing the alcohol in almost a single gulp. The brief interaction had taken far more out of her than she'd expected, although the results spoke for themselves. For the first time since the sinking of the Gambit, she was free of Malcolm Merlyn's influence. If he wasn't kept busy trying to escape the League of Assassins, an organisation she still struggled to believe actually existed, he'd be caught and killed by Ra's as punishment for his god-damned Undertaking. Either way, he wouldn't be bothering her, Thea or anyone else ever again.

It was this thought that brought a smile to her face as she finished preparing for bed, before climbing beneath the sheets and finally surrendering herself to unconsciousness, free of nightmares for the first time in months.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

This was, without a doubt, the worst idea that Thea had ever come up with. Honestly, she couldn't explain how she had even considered it good to begin with. A 'spur of the moment' thing, and one she knew would come back to bite her.

The party, she admitted, had been pretty fun. After months of basically living in the fairly small group of people who worked at Verdant, it was a nice chance to step back into the high society mindset she had left behind. Even the fact that only half a dozen or so people had actually bothered to show up failed to fully daunt her. Her mother had stepped up to the challenge, and so had she. Of course, having another familiar face there only helped to improve her evening. Aidan's presence had been a more than welcome comfort, a solid pillar of support that Thea had been able to grow off of. They had talked, mingled, drank and, perhaps most surprising to her, danced, all while maintaining a shell of warmth around the two.

Eventually, the party had slowly come to an end, the handful of guests departing one after another until only the Queens and Aidan remained. It was here that Thea had come up with her idea, blurting it out and regretting it less than a second later.

"You could stay the night, if you want."

That had been about twenty minutes ago. Now, Thea was sat on the bed in one of the mansion's guest rooms, changed from her party dress into more comfortable sleeping attire, and waiting for the muffled noise of the shower in the ensuite to come to an end.

It wasn't Aidan's fault that she was feeling this way. Well, not directly, at any rate. One of the few friends she still had left, he had done nothing but help her during the weeks since they'd met. Hanging out with her, helping her get through her doubts surrounding the trial, actually going so far as to defend her mother in court. There was very little she could say about him that didn't revolve around the friendship and kindness he had shown her. Plus, there was the fact that he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes.

In truth, it was more the feelings he unconsciously conjured up in her. After she'd broken up with Roy, Thea hadn't thought she'd be in the mood to try again with anyone for a while. Even when the twinges of attraction began to rise within her at the thought of her newest friend, she'd squashed them down, claiming to herself that the trial was far more important, that she didn't have time for that kind of thing. Well, that was over and done with now. And with that barrier out of the way, the thoughts she'd tried to control had risen up again, and this time they refused to be ignored. Aidan was smart, funny, kind and good looking, pretty much everything she could want in a boyfriend. And, given his presence tonight, it was getting pretty hard to keep herself from acting on any of this.

So mixed up in her thoughts, Thea missed the sound of the water finally cutting out, along with the soft patter of movement from the man inside. What did make her look up, however, was the sound of the door opening. Jerking out of her thoughts, Thea looked up as Aidan stepped in. His skin was pink from the shower, his hair still a little damp. His suit was gone, replaced by an old hoodie and sweatpants of Oliver, although these were just a little too big for him, hanging off his body while the open zip of the hoodie displayed his scarred, toned body.

"Thanks for the clothes." Aidan said, smiling in gratitude as he walked into the room. Thea smiled in return.

"No worries. Ollie hasn't used them in a while, anyways." She rose from her spot on the bed. "Besides, it beats having to get back to the city at this time of night."

"You don't need to tell me that." Aidan agreed, the smile never leaving his face. "I can't thank you enough for letting me crash here tonight."

"Trust me, it's fine." Thea said. "I'm pretty sure mom would've offered if I hadn't. After everything you've done for us, it's the least we can do."

Aidan just smiled and nodded in response, although Thea thought she heard him mutter 'I didn't do it for her' under his breath. She ignored the whisper, however, along with the slightly faster heartbeat it caused in her chest, and began to move towards the door.

"Thea, wait." The two words pulled her back around in a second as Aidan moved towards her, a nervousness permeating his whole being.

"Yeah?" She asked slowly. Aidan hesitated for a moment, before finding his voice.

"I…I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out some time." He said, stumbling slightly over his words. "You know, just the two of us."

Thea arched her eyebrow, the rest of her focus on suppressing the hopeful surge that had risen up inside her. "What, like a date?" She asked.

"I guess." Aidan replied, the words a breathy laugh before he grew slightly more serious. "I really like you, Thea. I'm pretty sure you're the first girl I like like that, and I just wanted to see if-"

He was quickly cut off before he could start rambling, Thea pressing her lips to his. Aidan froze at the initial contact, and Thea worried that maybe she had overstepped. This fear was washed away, however, as the young man slowly began to match the movements, hands reaching up to pull her in closer to him. Her owns arms wrapped around Aidan's neck, holding him to her for another few seconds before finally breaking the kiss, the need for oxygen burning in her lungs.

There was silence for a few seconds, the two of them catching their breaths from the embrace, before Aidan's mouth opened again.

"I guess that's a yes." He quipped, lips twitching upwards into his familiar grin. Thea laughed slightly at the fairly obvious statement, nodding her head in agreement before pressing her lips back against Aidan's once more, this time with no hesitation from either side, and no sign of stopping.

Well, until the two accidentally fell back onto the bed, that is.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The depot seemed deserted. Still, as Oliver walked in, he cast his eye around in a wary glance. He'd be a fool not to expect someone to show up, and it would only end up getting him killed if that faceless drone managed to get the drop on him. There was no point in denying the truth of the situation any longer. The combination in the blood he'd retrieved, the evidence that ignited memories of his second year on Lian Yu. Refusing to accept the facts would only get him killed, and Oliver had no intention of going down before he'd found out whoever it was that had somehow discovered the accursed drug and destroyed every last sample of it. That stuff was pure poison, and he should have left it in that submarine, where no one could ever reach it.

A noise pulled him from his musings. Oliver glanced behind him, curious to what had made that sound-before diving to the side to dodge the large crate that came hurtling through the air towards him. He only just got out of the way in time, the heavy box slamming into the shelves he'd stood in front of only a moment before. Had he not moved, Oliver was under no false pretence when he knew that the shelf would have had a slightly more crimson and pink colouration to it.

Looking up from the crate, the vigilante spotted the all-too-familiar blank masked man above him, stood on the depot's catwalk. Reaching for an arrow, he began firing shaft after shaft at him, very keen on bringing the man down. The onslaught didn't seem to bother the enhanced man, however, as he leapt down from his perch to land in front of Oliver, appearing to barely be fazed. The man quickly threw a wild haymaker at the archer, although he managed to duck under the powerful blow. As he came up, Oliver drew back his bow and fired a cable arrow that whistled through the air for a second, before wrapping a strong steel cable around his opponent's neck, along with the support pole behind him. Oliver let his bow rest as he stared at the bound man, questions rapidly flitting through his mind.

"Who are you?" He demanded, voice turning to a dangerously low growl even without the modulator.

"Merely a follower." The blank replied. So he was right, this lunatic _did_ have a boss.

"Of who?!"

"My brother." Oliver was seriously beginning to get tired of the vague answers.

"Did he give you the Mirakuru?" Did he inject you with it?!" He demanded hotly. The sooner he found this 'brother', the sooner he could wipe away this accursed experiment.

"No." The blank replied. "He saved me with it." And with that, the cable was torn in two as the man flexed his strength, destroying the bond that held him in place as he charged at Oliver. The archer was faster, however, as he fired two arrows into his attacker's feet, pinning him in place once again.

This man didn't look like an image of salvation to Oliver's eyes, fighting to lift his feet from the ground. More like Frankenstein's monster.

The man groaned in anger against his entrapment and began swinging his arms viciously, doing everything he could to wipe away his opponent. Oliver merely ducked under these rage-fuelled hits and began belting his stationary adversary with both his fists and bow. From his experience, any hit he could get in would prove useful in the long run, as long as he avoided taking any himself.

This was not to be, however, as one of the blank's punches succeeded in sending his bow flying, depriving the archer of his most valued tool. This loss gave the blank the moment he needed to rip one of the arrows from his foot, weakening the temporary prison. Sidestepping another punch, Oliver moved behind his opponent and kicked him in the back of the knees, sending him down. While the man was still immobile, he had the advantage.

This didn't last long, though, as Oliver was knocked back for a second, giving his opponent all the time he needed to tear the second arrow away, allowing him to take the fight to the vigilante head on. Oliver threw everything he had against the man, having one hit deflected but getting two more in. These didn't appear to have any effect, however, as the man succeeded in landing a solid punch to the billionaire's midsection, with enough force to send him sailing down the narrow aisle. Rolling to a stop, Oliver tried to rise up once again, but was too slow as the blank descended on him. One kick, and he was going up, straight into the air conditioning vent, with another punch on the way back down that saw him crash painfully into a shelf that was piled with varying medical supplies.

Lying there, in more pain than he'd felt in months, Oliver waited for the final blow to come. It never did. Instead, the blank appeared to give him one last glance before walking off, apparently deeming the fight over. As the man vanished, either to retrieve what he came for or depart after having already taken it, Oliver tried to get up, to move, to follow- to do _anything_ , really. It took only a second before he stopped, however, his eyes landing on the two self-injecting syringes that had pierced his leg, their contents gone.

In that second, everything seemed to hit him at once, as though he'd been run over by a bus. The pain, the exhaustion, the slowly spreading numbness that was centred on where the needles had injected him with whatever they contained. As the shadows began to circle his vision, Oliver struggled to open his com link, broadcasting his danger to Diggle and Felicity before it all became too much, the darkness swallowing him whole as he passed out.

What happened next hinged on the actions of his team. He could only trust that they would make the right choices.

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 **Man, I love a cliff-hanger.**

 **I'm sorry for the time this took to upload, but I've been a bit pre-occupied over the past month. Still, holidays are here now, so hopefully things should go a bit faster from now on. Again, no promises.**

 **In response to questions in recent reviews, the real-life model I've chosen for Aidan is a slightly younger Richard Madden, although with the hair and eyes I've given Aidan. Personal choices, really.**

 **I'd like to give a big thanks to jiubantai-taichoCalmejaneJose for his input on the trial in the previous chapter. I forgot to include him last time, so here he is now. They've honestly been a massive help in developing my ideas, so thanks again.**

 **Anyways, thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed, and I'll see y'all next time.**

 **TimeFury1347**


	9. Three Ghosts

"Let go, Oliver."

Eyes fluttering lazily open as consciousness gradually returned to his body, Oliver stared around blearily at the vision of chaos that seemed to be taking place. Or rather, what little of it he could actually make out. It was as though a curtain had descended between himself and the rest of the world. He was in the Foundry, that was obvious, with several people huddled around him. His ears hummed with the muffled noise of shouts, although they were too indistinct for him to understand what was being said, while a persistent _beep-beep-beep_ rang through his head. It wasn't just his eyes and ears, though. His entire being felt numb, muscles that seemed to have been swapped out with lead and a nervous system that had apparently decided to take a break for the foreseeable future. It was just his mind, cut off from everything he was and set adrift, all alone.

Well, apart from the all-too-familiar voice.

Oliver let his head loll to the side, following the only clear thing he had left. His eyes, however, were met with nothing, just the empty expanse of the Foundry. For a moment, it was like he had imagined the voice. Already, it felt like just a figment of his imagination, a side effect of whatever it was that had brought him to this point. Cursing his befuddled head for tricking him, he blinked. And there she was.

Standing in front of him, as clear as day, was the source of the noise. The woman he hadn't seen in five years, the woman who had helped to save him from the Island, and the woman whose death he had mourned every single day since that dreadful night. Still dressed in the muddied and worn clothes she had worn for most of their time together, she was as beautiful now as the day they had met.

It was Shado.

"Don't fight anymore." She begged him. By now, it was as though there truly was nothing else around them, the muffled noises and thumping pressure on his chest all fading into nothing but whispers at the corners of reality. There was only him and Shado.

She stretched out her hand. "Stay with me." She pleaded. Oliver, fighting for what little control he could muster over his own body, slowly reached out towards her, arm extending muscle by muscle. Just a little further, and he would finally be there. _She was right there, waiting for him, and he was so close._

And then, just as the tips of his fingers were about to brush hers, she was gone, fading from existence like a ghost before the rest of the world around him followed her, darkness descending over everything as the shadows took control once again…

…Someone was touching his neck.

Oliver didn't know what was going on, but it didn't matter. Instincts kicking in, he lashed out his hand and grabbed the throat of the man in front of him. The face was familiar, although he couldn't quite place how, only continuing to hold the man's airway shut. After everything that had happened to him, Oliver didn't feel like taking any chances.

"Oliver, let him go." He heard Diggle shout from behind him, before the man's thick arms were prying the archer's hand off of his prisoner. The man, _Barry_ , he faintly recalled, collapsed back against the table as Diggle held Oliver back, the vigilante feeling incredibly confused at everything that was going on.

"Oliver!" The single, sharply spoken word from Felicity managed to break through the quickly growing fog that had encircled his mind, and Oliver rose from where he sat, still confused as to what was happening.

"What the…" He gasped, trying to force things to make sense and failing miserably. Brief flashes of memory were swarming through his mind, memories of his fight with the faceless brute, of being tossed around like a ragdoll, and of passing out with a needle sticking out of his leg.

"You were injected with a strong-acting blood coagulant." Felicity explained as Oliver's mind slowly became his own once again.

"You would have stroked out." Oliver turned his head as Barry spoke, unsure as to the young scientist's presence. "But fortunately you had a very effective blood thinner handy. Warfarin." The young man paused for a moment before continuing, gingerly rubbing his slightly red throat. "Better known as rat poison." Oliver was still trying to get his head around everything. He'd been saved with _rat poison_?

"Kid saved your life, Oliver." Diggle simplified things for him, setting the facts straight in the vigilante's head, and finally allowing him to assess the situation. Barry Allen had saved his life. But he was in the Foundry. And Oliver wasn't wearing his mask. Which meant he knew who he was. Which meant-

"This is the point in a lifesaving emergency where you thank the person that did the lifesaving." Felicity's voice both interrupted and confirmed his thought process as she stepped back into the conversation, an edge of warning to her words.

Ignoring the not-so-subtle instruction, Oliver turned to look at her incredulously. "You told him who I am." He accused her.

"Yeah, I did." The blonde hacker said, bluntly and wholly unapologetically.

"That's not your secret to tell, Felicity." Oliver argued hotly, anger flaring in his chest. " _I_ decide who finds out my identity."

"Well, we didn't have time to get your vote, what with you unconscious and _dying_." Felicity retorted quickly, stepping around the table to stand directly in front of him. Oliver's anger, however, didn't abate in the slightest.

"What happens if he leaves here and goes right to the police?" He asked heatedly. Not an unlikely scenario, given that the man _worked_ for the police.

"He wouldn't do that." She replied, although Oliver found it a struggle to actually trust her conviction.

"I wouldn't do that." Barry repeated, although the older vigilante ignored this statement, focusing on his blonde teammate.

"I trust him." Felicity stated strongly, and Oliver almost scoffed at the statement.

"I don't." He exclaimed. Honestly, how could she not come to grips with this basic premise. Especially considering what the pair _did_ each night.

"What are you doing to do, put an arrow in him?" She asked sarcastically, although the idea had definitely crossed his mind.

"I am considering it." Oliver threatened, turning to glare at Barry for a second. It would certainly solve to keep his mouth shut about what had happened, as well as let off some of the rage that was boiling through the archer's blood.

"Don't worry, he's kidding!" Felicity forced the brakes on this plan as she assured Barry of his continued safety. The kid had definitely looked more than worried at the threat. Oliver was pulled away from this pleasing thought as the blonde tugged his attention back to her. "How is this any different from when your mother shot you and you came to me for help?" She asked.

Barry chose this moment to interrupt once again. "Your mother shot you?" He blurted out in surprise. Oliver held up a finger in warning, and, if the young man's sudden silence was anything to go by, the message was quickly received.

Felicity continued her questioning, still as strong as before. "Or when you brought Dig down here when he was poisoned by curare."

Oliver didn't bother to try and hold himself back anymore. They were well and truly past the point of no return. "The difference is that I did my homework on both of you !" He roared angrily. It had taken him _weeks_ of observation and analysis before he'd brought either of his teammates into the fold, even with the injury that had facilitated the hacker's knowledge of his identity, and Felicity thought that less than a handful of days coupled with a _crush_ was enough? "I don't just tell people easily."

"I'm not going to tell anyone." Once more, Barry spoke up, and Oliver could almost feel the young scientist moving closer towards him. "And you don't have to thank me, but you should thank her instead of being kind of a jerk." Turning to face the CSI once again, Oliver moved a step closer to the man, trusting his hours of tried and tested intimidation to put the man in his place. After what had happened over the last five minutes, coupled with the confusing memories surrounding whatever it was that he had seen however long ago it was now, he was not in the mood to let some baby-faced chatterbox mouth him off. To Barry's credit, however, he did manage to hold his ground, although some of the fire dwindled in his eyes. "Mr Queen." He added, almost as an afterthought.

Ready to continue the argument, Oliver was stopped as his phone began to buzz. Picking the device up from where it lay by the computer, he looked at the short text message that filled the screen. It was from his mother.

' **Can you please come home.'**

Sighing, Oliver placed the device down once again. "I have to go home." He said. "That man that I fought in the bunker, he has what he needs to mass produce the serum from the island." He informed the team. This piece of intel was vital in their effort to find and end the man's work, and the sooner they ended whatever it was he had planned once he'd gotten what he needed, the better. "And we have to stop him." His piece said, Oliver began to slowly make his way towards the stairs. His mother needed him back home, and he needed a change of clothes before he could even think about heading back.

He was stopped once more by the CSI, although this time it seemed to be for the better. "He touched your skin when he grabbed your neck." Barry told him quickly, holding up a piece of evidence tape that, if Oliver's suspicions were right, had nearly seen him choked to death mere minutes ago. "I was able to absorb the residual oils from his skin, which, when added to a gel-based polymer, might be able to recreate his fingerprints." Oliver gave the young man a look as he spoke, digesting the information before offering a slight nod of appreciation and turning to continue his walk away from the small group. If the young man was going to remain for the time being, he might as well earn his keep, and, provided he could do what he said, they'd be one step closer to finding this elusive nutjob and ending his plans for good.

And if not…well, there was still his bow…

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Looking back on the vast majority of his life, the last few hours in particular, Aidan knew that he shouldn't have been surprised by how events had converged to reach where he was now. It was as though the universe had decided that, for every good moment that was granted to him, another equally bad one would show its ugly head at virtually the exact same second. And, given the fact that he had basically gone _through_ Cloud Nine the night before, it really shouldn't have been hard to predict what would come next.

It was the phone call that had first alerted him to something being wrong. The annoying chime had woken him up from a very pleasant dream, and a simple glance out the window showed how sunrise was still a while away. Carefully pulling himself out of the bed, taking care not to disturb a still resting Thea, he had fished the noisy device from the haphazardly thrown clothes to answer the call. Aidan had instantly been greeted by a slightly panicky Sin, which was more than enough to bring him to the realisation that something was off. It took a _lot_ to panic the sarcastic Glades girl, and not something that could be easily overlooked. Once he had woken up enough to actually understand what he was being told, everything became crystal clear to the young vigilante. Roy had been shot in the leg with an arrow behind Verdant, and was currently passed out in the club's back alley, slowly bleeding out. The young man had apparently managed to text Sin before falling into unconsciousness, and the information specialist was calling for backup, as well as a lift to someplace better suited to handle Roy's injury. It had taken only a few minutes for Aidan to get on his way, hurriedly pulling on his clothes and waking Thea to fill her in on what was happening. The young Queen had responded far faster than he himself had, throwing him the keys to one of the Queen family's fleet of cars while she had rushed off, to set about finding the tools they would need to sort out their friend once he arrived.

Thankfully, the roads to Starling had been virtually deserted, the early hour freeing up the route and allowing Aidan to reach the club in less than twenty minutes, even if that had meant breaking at least half a dozen speed limits. The drive had, at least, helped to wake him up further, and the young man had been at perfect clarity once he'd finally pulled to a stop at the mouth of Verdant's back alley, to be met with the sight of Sin trying to wrap Roy's leg up with a scrap of her own shirt. The smell of blood had instantly assaulted Aidan's nose, a downside to his new abilities, but one he was willing to overlook for the time being as he assessed the injury. The arrow had gone straight through, the sharp tip still protruding from Roy's leg, while the material covering it had been soaked in blood and stuck to the young man's skin. The smeared line of blood along the concrete floor of the alley, combined with the residue of filth of the man's clothes, told Aidan that either Roy had dragged himself to where he was after the attack, or Sin had attempted to help him move, albeit unsuccessfully. Honestly, given the sheer amount of crimson decorating the place, it was nothing short of a miracle that Roy was even still breathing.

Aidan's strength had turned out to be incredibly useful once he'd arrived. Lifting Roy up had been a piece of cake, and made for a far quicker transfer to the car rather than attempting to drag the Arrow enthusiast any further. The delirious state of his charge had allowed him to transport the young man without fear of discovery, and soon they were off again, Sin doing what she could to stem the flow of blood, started up again by the action of shifting Roy from alley to Audi, while Aidan raced back to the mansion, fully aware of both the steady increase in additional cars and the slowly-growing light over the horizon, the first hints of a new day dawning.

Once back, Roy had been quickly moved to Thea's room, where the girl in question waited with as many towels and first aid supplies as she'd been able to find, although the latter item was incredibly limited. The journey there had been interesting, to say the least, with Aidan moving as quietly as possible while Sin held a hand over Roy's mouth to suppress his moans. The last thing they needed was for Moira Queen or any of the mansion's staff to accidentally stumble across them. As soon as they were safely in, Thea had locked her bedroom doors, and the three of them had set to work doing what they could to help their friend. The bloody trouser leg had been the first to go, carefully snipped off to just above the wound with a pair of scissors, while the assorted towels had been used as both cushioning and cleaning tools. Of course, the arrow that still stuck out of the leg didn't exactly help in patching Roy up.

Which led the young vigilante to where he was now. Butting heads with Thea in regards to the long barb sticking out of their friend's leg.

"It needs to go." He insisted, both hands currently occupied in pressing a towel around the arrow in question. The cotton was already turning red as the blood soaked into it, and Aidan was slowly beginning to worry. They were starting to run low on their makeshift sponges, which, once they were finally out, would make keeping things secret a hell of a lot harder. This wasn't exactly helped by the fact that Moira Queen was starting to pick up on the strange activity in her home, having been quite insistent on coming in only half an hour ago. If she found out, it would pretty much mean an end to their work thus far. Work that they either needed to continue to the next stage or pass on to somebody else. Neither option being particularly simple tasks.

"We can't!" Thea shot back vehemently. "We don't have anything to bind it with, it'll only get worse."

"The longer the arrow stays in there, the worse it's going to get." Aidan laid out the facts. The countless hours Sin had spent patching him up after a long night's work were finally coming in handy. "Besides, once it's gone, we can at least get him to a hospital without any funny questions."

The young billionaire did appear to at least be considering the idea, her mouth starting to open with a response. She was interrupted, however, by a sudden knocking at the door, the unexpected sound enough to make everyone in the room jump slightly. Aidan was just thankful that Roy was conscious enough to stay silent of his own volition by now. Covering _that_ from the questioning Mrs Queen had not exactly been fun.

"Thea, it's Ollie. Open the door." The person on the other side, now identified as Thea's brother, called out from the other side of the protective slab of wood, and Aidan glanced at Thea. She looked worried, far more so than when it had just been her mother.

"Not-not now, Ollie." She yelled back, stammering slightly.

"Speedy, open the door!" Oliver yelled, now sounding far more annoyed than before. Thea turned to face the room's other occupants for a second, and Aidan met her questioning gaze with a brief shrug of his shoulders. Right now, they couldn't exactly afford to be picky when it came to help.

"Is mom with you?" The young Queen shouted through the door. As much as assistance was needed, it still wouldn't be good if the mansion's matriarch caught wind of what was going on.

"No!" The exclamation was all Thea needed as she headed for the door, unlocking it and pulling it open a crack. Enough to see her brother, not enough to let him see Roy.

"I didn't want mom to see." She began.

"See what?" Aidan heard Oliver ask. Thea's only response was to open the door wider, allowing her brother to step into the room and see what was happening. Recalling his faint suspicions from the night before, Aidan focused on the face of the older Queen sibling, looking for any reaction to Roy's condition. The distinct lack of surprise caught his attention pretty quickly, as did the feigned look of shock that showed up just a second too late to be natural.

"What happened to him?" Oliver asked as he walked into the room, door closing behind him.

"Vigilante decided to use him as target practise." Thea explained, her disgust for the archer evident in her tone. "You're right-the guy's a psycho."

"Why didn't you go to a hospital?" Oliver asked Roy, coming to a stop beside the bed. Although his gaze had returned to his friend's injured leg, Aidan kept his ears open for any more giveaways. His theory was slowly starting to sound less and less ridiculous.

"In this city, an arrow's the same as a bullet if you want the cops involved." Roy said through gritted teeth. As quiet as he had been, the pain clearly hadn't abated.

"And mom actually likes Roy, but something tells me she'd revoke his tree trimming invitation if she found out he was messing around with the Hood." Aidan almost laughed at the sharp look Thea sent her ex-boyfriend at the last part. As willing as she'd been to help out when they'd been searching for Max, any mention of Starling's resident bowman was enough to set the young Queen on the warpath, especially when Roy was almost inevitably involved.

"Uh-huh." Oliver offered by way of acknowledgement, before he kneeled down on the bed and took a fresh towel from Sin's hands. "Hi." He said to her, before shooting Aidan a pointed look. Recognising what the older man was planning, Aidan moved his hands away from the arrow shaft, giving Roy a quick look of pity. What was coming would not be fun.

"I won't lie Roy, this is going to hurt. A lot." The young man warned as the elder Queen sibling positioned himself alongside the injured leg. "So I'd grit your teeth now if I were you."

"My anger's dulling the pain." Roy replied tightly, and Aidan rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure that Roy wouldn't admit to being in pain unless it was close to killing him. Stubborn moron. Then again, the young vigilante couldn't exactly say that he'd be any different.

"This will dull it better." Sin said, offering the injured Glades resident a bottle of vodka. With a shaky hand, Roy grasped the proffered bottle and took a swig.

Oliver didn't hesitate for a second. Aidan watched as the man grabbed the bottle from Roy, before splashing a fair amount of its contents on the bloody wound. Roy groaned in pain sharply, the noise only increasing as Oliver wrapped the towel around the shaft of the arrow and pulled it out, very slowly and _very_ deliberately. If he hadn't known any better, Aidan might have thought the older man enjoyed the painful-looking process.

Roy's groan of pain grew louder as Oliver set aside the arrow and pressed the towel back down on the wound. "Going to put pressure on it." He said, taking Roy's hand and placing it on the towel. "Right there." Aidan reached over to help his friend as the older of the Queens moved away from the bed and dialled a number on his phone.

"Diggle, I need you to come to the Queen Mansion." He said, once the person on the other end of the line had picked up. "Roy's been shot. With an arrow." Aidan caught the man's glance back at the bed. There was a look in the older man's eye that he just couldn't quite pinpoint. "It's a long story. Look, just bring the first aid kit to Thea's room. Thank you." The elder Queen turned back to the group of four. "Roy, my driver, Mr Diggle; he has medical training from his time in the army. He's going to patch you up." Well, at least that would negate the need for a hospital, Aidan supposed.

"Thank you." Roy said weakly, still recovering from the pain of the removal.

"It's the least I can do." Oliver said, somewhat awkwardly. "Look, I don't know what the four of you are up to, but maybe the vigilante was just trying to keep you safe." Aidan's eyebrows arched upwards at the fairly lame explanation.

"I'm pretty sure there are easier ways to say 'be careful' than skewering Roy." He said, his tone perfectly presenting his scepticism at the idea.

Oliver shot him a brief, yet incredibly sharp look before continuing. "I…I'm just saying. Maybe you should let this go." He said, although it was painfully obvious that the warning was falling on deaf ears. The older man left almost as soon as his piece was said, the door closing behind him and leaving the quartet in silence.

Aidan turned to look at the others as Sin began to speak. "We're not letting this go, are we?" She asked, the query largely being directed towards Thea, and was met with a firm shake of the head from the young woman.

"No." She said decisively. "But this time we're going to do things _my way._ " Roy looked somewhat uncomfortable at the stern glare Thea threw his way, and Aidan couldn't help but quietly chuckle at the sight. A deeper part of him, however, used the time to mull over what he had gathered. First, his theory was looking to be more accurate with every passing second. And, following on from this, it was clear that whatever it was they were looking into was a whole lot more dangerous than they'd thought.

It was clear that more information would be needed before this case could be brought to an end. And, provided that Aidan's suspicions were correct, he knew just who could give him the answers he so needed.

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If there was one point that Sin had to give to Thea Queen, it was that she certainly knew how to get things moving. It had only been a few hours since Roy's injury had been taken care of, thanks to perhaps one of the biggest guys she had ever seen, and their investigation was already back on track. Although, she did have to wonder why Thea was bringing them to the DA's office.

"Never thought I'd find myself here." Sin remarked, as she followed the Queen girl through the lobby of the building and towards the elevators. She was having to hurry in order to keep up, Thea's long strides forcing her to pick up her feet as they brushed past more suits than the Glades girl could count.

"If we want to get to the bottom of this, we're going to need someone who can do some digging." Thea explained, bushing the elevator call button and finally coming to a stop, allowing Sin to properly catch up. The two waited as the floors counted down, ignoring the handful of looks that were cast their way. Well, Sin's way. She hugged her leather jacket tighter around here, silently wishing that Aidan was here to support here. One of the benefits of their friendship over the years, when he was around, there were very few people who were willing to mess with the information guru.

Right now, however, the man himself was back at the Queen mansion, taking care of a recovering Roy while the girls went to work. Most likely for the best, she thought, as the metal doors slid open and the pair of them stepped in. The fewer of them there were, the less likely someone was going to notice them. After what had happened with both Roy and Max, discretion really was the name of the game. Even if that _did_ mean missing out on a chance to laugh at whatever it was had changed between the pair overnight.

Oh well, she could wait.

Waiting as the metal box rose to the correct level, Sin followed Thea through the building, until they turned a corner and arrived at their destination. Around them, the suits were at work, either moving about or staring at their computers. Had this been any other time, Sin's mind would be focused on how much she could get from this lot without their knowledge. Actually, if this were any other time, she wouldn't even be here. But, right now, she had more important things to focus on.

"Secret admirer?" Thea called out, and Sin followed her gaze to the woman stood at the desk directly in front of them, a large vase of flowers set before her. A quick look at her face told the Glades girl exactly who it was. Laurel Lance. She had seen pictures of her when Aidan had been putting his trial defence together, and knew that she had initially been part of the team set on giving Thea's mother the death sentence. If that wouldn't make things just a tad awkward, she didn't know what would.

"No, actually, they're from my father." The lawyer replied, turning to face the two girls as they stopped just in front of her. "What brings you by?" She asked. It wasn't exactly hard to notice the caution in her eyes as she looked at Thea, although the Queen girl seemed to barely register it.

"We need your help." Thea began, her voice sounding slightly reluctant, either because of the information itself, or more likely because of who she was talking to. "Cindy's friend was murdered, but the police aren't going to investigate. They say he OD'ed, end of story." Sin couldn't help but silently grind her teeth at the reminder. For years, the cops had been looking to leave the Glades to fall under its own weight. The Undertaking had just given them the opportunity, and they had taken full advantage of it.

"Check this out." Sin said, pulling the pamphlet about the blood drive out of her pocket and handing it to the lawyer Lance. "He earned extra money donating blood. We found it at Max's apartment. They wouldn't have accepted his blood if he was using, right?" She added. The hospitals were desperate, that was no secret, but she was willing to bet that there were still _some_ standards surrounding this sort of thing.

"Max went missing the same day as the blood drive." Thea continued the narrative. "If he did donate blood there, maybe they at least know something that happened to him." And right now, something was better than nothing. It took the lawyer a few seconds to process everything they had said, but it wasn't long before she was slowly nodding her head.

"I'll ask around." She promised, and Sin breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, things were starting to look up for them.

"Thank you Laurel." Thea said, before turning and heading back the way they came. Sin quickly fell into step beside the young billionaire, and the pair made their way back to the elevators, more than ready to head back to the mansion.

"So, what now?" Sin asked, as the doors slid open once again and the two girls stepped in, weaving their way between the handful of people stepping out.

"We wait to see if there's something solid we can work with." Thea answered, pressing the button for the lobby and leaning back. Sin copied the gesture, lightly tapping her fingers against her arm as she waited for the doors to open once more. While Thea's plan did sound like it might actually work, as opposed to whatever it was Roy had cooked up before he'd been punctured, she couldn't help but compare things to her work with Aidan. Investigating with a vigilante really did make things go by just a little bit faster.

Still, she thought with a barely-there grin as the doors slid open once more, it wasn't like the one they had on hand was any better than her when it came to patience. Chances were, they'd have more to work with in the span of a day. Two at the most.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

As the car pulled to a stop outside the motel, Oliver cast his eye around the surroundings. If this Cyrus Gold was hiding out around here, then he had definitely picked a good spot. The place didn't look any different to the hundreds of others spread out across the city, and certainly wasn't somewhere that the police would think to look for a criminal. He refused to acknowledge the intelligence behind the choice, however, and kept looking around, eyes a pair of lasers as they swept anything and everything in sight.

The opening and closing of the car door beside him pulled his attention somewhat, and he ceased his work as Diggle moved in front of the car, heading towards the motel where their guy might be waiting. Oliver tried to ignore the itching push at the back of his mind that urged him to follow.

"If you get bored, I keep a book of crossword puzzles in the glove box." Diggle called out as he went. The attempt at humour, however, was not well received.

"That's not funny." Oliver shot back sourly. He watched as Diggle disappeared inside, slipping on his headset and silently fuming at his current position. He wasn't used to sitting things out in his work, even if it was something as simple as recon. He should be in there, looking for any sign of the man they were searching for, the man who had somehow rediscovered the 'miracle drug' and swept across the city in pursuit of more, leaving a trail of chaos and death in his wake. Staying here just felt… _wrong._

Still, a part of the archer could understand why he was forced to remain, even if he didn't agree with it. He had almost been killed less than a day ago, first by Gold and then by the coagulant that had unintentionally been injected into him. He had been hurt, badly, and certain precautions had to be taken to ensure that something like that didn't happen again the first time he went back out. And, on top of this, Oliver's recent hallucinations really wouldn't help his case. Although the twin occurrences had been kept to himself, Oliver knew that something was wrong. A leftover consequence of the process used to save him, or a result of the blow to the head he'd taken in the fight. Oliver didn't know, and he didn't really care. In the span of a few hours, he'd seen Shado, a woman who had been dead for five years, standing in front of him as though nothing had happened. The first occasion, he could explain as a product of delirium. The second, a little harder to cover.

Until his head was back on straight, Oliver knew that his work as the Arrow would be forced to pump on the brakes slightly. For now, at least.

The headset suddenly came to life, and he listened as a door opened, followed by slow, careful footsteps. Diggle had reached the room.

"Ok, what do you see?" Oliver asked, mind snapping into place instantly. Anything Diggle found could be important.

"It's clean." The veteran bodyguard relayed. "Really clean." There was silence for a second, before the familiar deep voice filled his ears again. "Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday." The line was familiar to the archer.

"Christened on a Tuesday." Oliver continued. "I know the poem. It symbolizes the seven stages of life- from birth to death." Why it was in Gold's apartment was a mystery.

"What stage is this guy?" Diggle wondered, before the words were replaced by several bursts of gunfire. Oliver didn't need to be told what had happened, as he quickly moved over into the driver's seat and started the ignition. Gold was up there with Diggle. Stomping on the accelerator, Oliver drove around to the side of the motel, listening as more grunts and sounds of fighting filled his ears.

The noise of breaking glass, both in his ear and above his head, drew Oliver's attention, and he craned his neck up to watch as Diggle appeared through an apartment window, scrambling down the fire escape in a hurry to reach the ground. Through the broken window frame, the archer's eyes could just make out a dark shape staring out, the horribly familiar blank mask watching as the slightly battered bodyguard finally made it to ground level. Oliver brought the car to an abrupt halt just beside Diggle, and waited as the man hurriedly made his way around and into the car.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" He urged before the door was even closed, and the emerald vigilante wasted no time in taking off, racing down the road ahead of them and leaving Cyrus Gold in the dust.

Diggle gasped in pain beside him, and a quick glance saw the bodyguard holding an arm across his chest. "He picked me up like I was nothing." The man noted sourly. Oliver couldn't blame him for the tone. To be tossed around like a rag doll felt unnatural, like the drug that gave Gold the ability to do so.

Pushing aside the dark thoughts flitting through his mind, Oliver dialled the Foundry. "Felicity, call for back-up." He ordered.

"On it." The blonde replied, and Oliver knew that there was no need to define exactly what kind. Right now, they needed all the help they could get, from those on both sides of the law.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Gripping his fingers on the ledge of the building, Aidan pulled himself up and over, airborne for a moment before his feet landed on the flat stone of the rooftop. The place was quiet, the only noise coming from the cars down below. Overshadowed slightly by the nearby stadium, it was an ideal spot for a meeting, which Aidan guessed was why the Arrow had told him to meet him here. The only detail he'd left out was why. Although, judging by the fact that he had called in the first place, he could tell that it was important. Nothing the bow wielding vigilante did seemed to be anything but.

A part of his mind wondered if the reason behind the surprising call was due to whatever it was he'd been injected with. The hunt for answers was shaping up to be far longer than he'd anticipated, with very little learnt before Roy's moment as a target dummy and Thea's style of investigation still waiting to reveal any leads. The wait was almost painful to him, the past few months of vigilantism seemingly doing little to improve his patience. This wasn't exactly helped by the fact that, for the first time in months, Aidan actually felt…scared. He had no idea what had happened to him, only that it had resulted in him waking up covered in blood, and possessing abilities that, while undoubtedly handy in his line of work, might as well have just appeared with the snap of a finger. The only _evidence_ he and Sin had to point to someone being behind this was the needle hole Sin had found on his arm while she'd been piecing him back together, and a handful of pictures of a corpse with bloody tears. Nowhere near enough to find anything solid from which to make a discovery, and it was both infuriating and a little bit unnerving.

Someone had kidnapped him, pumped him full of drugs, and tossed him back out on the streets. This same someone had been responsible for one death already, along with God knows how many other disappearances and deaths, and they were still out there. Probably waiting for another poor sucker to pounce on.

Pushing the thoughts away, Aidan moved across the rooftop, keeping close of the roof access as he turned around the entrance to the building itself before he stopped. There, stood on the middle of the flat roof, staring out across what little of the city could be seen, was the Arrow.

"What's this about?" He called out, modulator deepening his voice. The hooded man turned slightly to look at him.

"You'll find out soon." He replied. "We're just waiting on one more."

Stepping closer at a slower pace, he was about to continue his questioning when the sound of more footsteps caught his ear. Turning his head to follow the sound, it took only a few seconds before the source of the noise was revealed. Officer Lance appeared, moving away from the stairs leading inside and looking around for a moment before spotting the archer.

"This about Sara?" He called out, moving closer to the hooded man, not spotting Aidan in his apparent eagerness. "You heard from her?" Aidan took the opportunity to move in closer, feet barely making a noise as the cop's words further served to muffle the sound.

The Arrow turned around to face the police officer, hidden eyes quickly darting to Aidan for a second before returning to the cop and letting out a sigh. "No." He said apologetically, even through the modulator. "I'm sorry, this is." He paused for a second, before continuing. "This is something else." He extended his arm, and Aidan saw for the first time that a file was held in the gloved hand.

"Cyrus Gold." The archer said, handing the file to Lance before turning away once again. "He robbed the Applied Sciences Division of Queen Consolidated last week." Lance was paging through the thin file, before his attention was once again brought to the vigilante. "Detective, he's extremely dangerous."

Aidan barely heard most of the hooded man's words, however. The name, Cyrus Gold, had stuck in his mind, drowning out all other thoughts as it revolved around and around inside his head. Out of nowhere, it ignited something, a half-shrouded memory, one swimming in pain and confusion.

… _fight for me, with Brother Gold…_

That name, it was linked to his disappearance. The man who'd kidnapped him, who'd given him his abilities, Aidan wasn't sure, but just the mention of his name sent a chill down his spine.

"The CSI kid from Central City, he said this guy was like some kind of monster." Lance's words brought Aidan's attention back to the present, and he began to move closer once more, each step slower than the last as his mind raced.

"He is." The Arrow assured the cop.

"Well, what is it? Steroids?" Aidan was brought a stop yet again by the words. Steroids? So this guy was strong? A horrible sense of foreboding began to creep over his entire being, as dots slowly started to click together. Whoever this Cyrus Gold was, he was strong, to the extent where he could be considered a monster. He had also most likely been involved in Aidan's kidnapping, a kidnapping that had resulted in him gaining, among other things, strength that was practically unnatural. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together from there.

Cyrus Gold had the same abilities as Aidan himself. And, from the conversation thus far, it was clear that this guy did not share the young man's own benign goals.

"Worse," The Arrow warned. "It's-" He trailed off before he could elaborate further, appearing to look up at something on the higher portion of the roof. Aidan cast a look back, trying to follow the hooded vigilante's line of sight, but there was nothing there. Just a few air ducts, hardly anything noteworthy.

"Well, assuming I believe you," Lance dragged the attention of both vigilantes back to the matter at hand, "why come to me?"

"I've been compromised." The Arrow admitted, the words sounding almost unnatural coming from his mouth.

"What does that mean?" The cop asked in confusion, one shared by Aidan. What had happened to the archer to put him out of the game, especially when there was a Frankenstein's monster on the loose.

"It means I'd be a liability." The Arrow snapped, words rushed as they poured from his mouth. "You have to take my word on this, Detective. Gather as many men as you can, and do not hesitate to kill Cyrus Gold. Because if given the opportunity, he'll do the same to you." His speech said, the vigilante finally tore his gaze away from whatever it was he was looking at, nodding quickly at Aidan before turning and drawing an arrow from his quiver. Firing it into the roof, the hooded man proceeded to jump over the side, trailing as line of cable behind him.

Silence reigned on the rooftop for a few moments, both men present watching the space where their ally had just vanished. Aidan's head was spinning in confusion, questions piling up with not a single answer in sight. What was wrong with the Arrow? What had he been looking at? How exactly had he been compromised? The instruction to kill Gold had come out of nowhere, especially considering the archer's less lethal methods as of late. It was clear that, whatever had happened had shaken the masked man up, only further proving the danger behind this mystery strong man and adding to the basic layout of events in the younger vigilante's mind.

Lance turned around after a few seconds, eyes back on the file in his hand before he spotted the second man. Aidan almost felt bad as the older cop jerked back in surprise, before refocusing on the task at hand.

"How long have you been there?" Lance asked, sounding both surprised and annoyed at the same time.

"As long as you." Aidan replied, finally closing the gap between police officer and vigilante. As he stopped, he reached out for the file. "May I?"

"Sure, why not." Lance agreed, passing the collection of documents over to him. Aidan took a moment to leaf through what he had. Records on the man, a police and forensics report concerning the Queen Consolidated break in the Arrow mentioned, and a location. He ran his eyes over the last piece of information several times, committing it safely to memory. Just to be sure.

Handing the file back to Lance, Aidan reached into a pocket and pulled out a burner phone. Similar to the one he'd given the Arrow, only a month ago.

"Call me when you find out where Gold is hiding." He said to the cop, pressing the device into his hand.

"Well, I guess it never hurts to have backup." Lance commented, before fixing him with a more serious look. "Just, try to stay out of sight when we go in. Last thing I need to be get demoted for working with a vigilante again."

Aidan simply nodded. "Unless I'm needed, I'll keep out of sight. I'm fairly good at that." And, with one last nod to the cop, the young vigilante turned and moved towards the edge of the building. When the cops went after Gold, and he knew it'd be sooner rather than later, Aidan knew that he'd have to be ready. By all accounts, this guy was ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted, meaning that he could not afford to let himself slip before he was taken down. Everything pointed to Gold at the very least knowing what had been put into Aidan's body, and he was more than ready for answers.

As he reached the side of the rooftop, Aidan simply stepped over the side and let himself fall. The wind whipped past his head for several moments, before he reached out and grabbed the side of the building's fire escape, only a few feet from the ground. The metal in his hand buckled under the weight, and he made sure to let go before it gave out, dropping the rest of the distance to land in a crouch. Moving towards his bike, Aidan was brought to a halt as his phone vibrated inside the pocket of his jacket. Pulling the device out, he noticed the short text he had just received from Thea.

' **Movie night at the Mansion. Bring food.'**

Chuckling slightly, he pocketed the phone and hopped onto the motorcycle, taking off down the alley and out onto the streets. He doubted that Lance would manage to get anyone to move in on Gold until tomorrow at the earliest. One night off wouldn't kill him. Besides, he had a few more questions that needed answering. Ones revolving around a certain brunette beauty.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

When the Arrow had told him to take down Cyrus Gold, Quentin Lance had not anticipated the level of difficulty in actually carrying it out. Maybe it was the events that had taken place since the archer's arrival in the city, that had helped to acclimatise the grizzled ex-Detective to a life of the unimaginable being just another Wednesday, but it was certainly proving a challenge to press such a mindset, or at least convey the urgency required by the situation, onto those he needed on his side. Even his old partner.

In truth, the only thing that stuck out for Quentin was the fact that the green hooded vigilante had decided to sit this one out. Even if he had once labelled the man as nothing but a deranged murderer, the old cop had never known the archer to leave anything be without taking a look first, the masked man almost insistent on appearing at every single crime scene and area of suspicion. And, while he was sure that the man had a good reason for his new stance, that didn't make things any less curious to Quentin. The only thought that consolidated him was that there would still be one mask going along for the ride, and the fact that this was a _benefit_ really did help show just how far things had changed in Starling, all thanks to the city's greatest archery enthusiast.

Still, even with these thoughts, he knew that he had to focus on actually bringing things about. Whoever, or whatever, Cyrus Gold was, he had clearly managed the impossible in making the Arrow nervous. A man capable of such a feat was a danger, and one that needed to be taken down as soon as possible. Which was what led Quentin to where he was now. Trying to explain the situation to a man who could barely believe the first few words.

"I know, it sounds crazy." The grizzled cop said as he followed Hilton through the SCPD station.

"Human weapons?" The detective asked with heavy incredulity, which was hardly misplaced. Wind time back a year, and Lance could easily have been in his place.

"Look, his name is Cyrus Gold. He's the one that broke into Queen Consolidated last week. He's the one that robbed the blood bank. And he killed all those people." Quentin insisted. After hearing everything that the Arrow had said, as well as reading the man's file, it honestly sounded less and less insane. Still fairly close to unbelievable, but not quite out of the realms of possibility.

"Wait, hold on a second." Instead of continuing the discussion, Hilton took a different angle on the matter. "Where are you getting this intel?" The man asked suddenly, the unexpected inquiry forcing Quentin into silence. He had no answer to that, at least none that wouldn't dig his hole any deeper. His silence, however, was all that his old friend needed. "Oh man, what's a matter with you? Talking to the Vigilante's what got you demoted in the first place." Hilton chastised him. Quentin ignored the reminder of how he had lost his badge, focusing on the matter at hand. Besides, while his affiliation with the archer had been the cause of his sudden drop in rank, it had helped to save the Glades from a fair amount of Merlyn's insane plan last year. That, in his mind, was worth it.

"Look, we take a small squad." Quentin pressed, doing what he could to force his request. "McCarthy and Evans from SWAT, Jones. We can bring this guy down." He knew that whatever help he'd get would be limited. Without a solid basis for his evidence, he could hardly get a full SWAT team to take down Gold. Besides, if they could get the element of surprise, their numbers wouldn't matter. Catching a perp with his pants down was always easier than going in guns blazing.

"I promised Jeannie I'd take her Christmas shopping." Hilton said, trying to dodge the situation. Quentin, however, knew when his old partner was close to breaking, and right now, he was so close to that tipping point.

"Lucas. Please." He begged, and it finally seemed to be enough.

With a sigh, the detective gave in. "Fine. But you get to call Jeannie and tell her I'm not taking her shopping." He said pointedly, a prospect that made Lance shudder slightly. That woman really could be intimidating when she wanted to.

"Hey, sir." The call from behind pulled his attention away, and both men turned to see Officer Daily. "I don't mean to overstep, but could you guys use an extra man?" He offered.

Hilton didn't answer the question, only casting another pointed look at Lance before walking off. Quentin quickly looked over the man. Daily was a good cop, never once having had any issue with his duty, if the older man remembered things correctly. And, considering who they were going up against, the phrase 'the more the merrier' couldn't be truer.

"Grab a vest, Officer Daily." Quentin ordered the younger man, before moving to collect his own gear. There were still a multitude of things to do before they could set off, and he refused to leave anything to chance. Besides, he had a handful of phone calls to make, including one to a certain skull faced vigilante.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Descending the steps into the Foundry, Oliver couldn't help but curse at everything that had happened over the last few days, everything that had led to the infuriating situation he now found himself in. The feeling of uselessness was not one the archer was used to, and the fact that he was suddenly being forced to come to terms with it set his teeth on edge in the same way nails on a chalkboard would. Ever since he'd fought Gold, it was like the world he lived in had started to fracture. He was seeing things, people, that shouldn't be there, people that died half a decade ago. He couldn't help his city in the way that he once had, old strength having given way to new weakness, weakness that blocked him off from anything that he might be able to do. Instead of acting, he had to watch, first as Diggle took the lead in the investigation, coming close to being defeated at Gold's had while Oliver could do nothing but listen from the side lines, and now as he had no choice but to pass off the hunt to both Lance and Damocles. Two men he knew he could trust to do what the situation required of them, true, but that didn't help alleviate the stress he was under.

Hell, right now, even Thea and her friends were doing more than he was. When he'd shot Roy, he had expected at least some kind of wait, a gap in his search while he healed. But no, all it had done was push him onwards, reaching out to Laurel for information and, if the quartet actually got their hands on something before Gold was taken care of, journeying further and further down the tunnel that would likely lead to nothing but death and pain. And still, he could do nothing, not even as Oliver Queen. It was like the universe was finally deciding to balance the work he'd done over the last year and a half, the non-stop hunt for survival during the worst five years of his life. He was out of commission, able to do nothing but watch as others put their lives on the line, when it should have been his own in their place.

And so, in the face of all of this, he had come to the one place where he could find some peace, where the feelings of worry and irritation it brought with it might be able to calm down.

Moving further in, Oliver's ears picked up the sound of voices, with the owners identifiable less than a second later. Felicity and Barry were sat by the computers, watching something on one of the monitors. Focusing his gaze for a moment, Oliver saw that it was the countdown to the Particle Accelerator in Central City, a big project by STAR Labs that had been all over the news for the past few weeks. It made perfect sense that _that_ would be what the pair was watching, given that the two were almost obsessed with science in whatever shape or form they could find it in.

His approach was noticed by Felicity not too long later, the blonde spotting him and flashing a smile his way once he reached the main area of the lair. "Hey." She said warmly as he grabbed a tennis ball.

"Hi." He replied, waiting for the question that he could already see forming on her tongue.

"How are you feeling?" She asked at once, concern glittering in her eyes. Oliver couldn't help but smile at the sight. Even with their recent disagreement surrounding the Central City CSI, it was nice to see that he could still count on Felicity, that their team would still look out for each other. Still, that couldn't quite take away from the slight feeling of annoyance he felt at not being alone in the Foundry.

"Fine. Just," he smiled tightly. While he couldn't exactly count himself as the most sociable person in Starling, when he wasn't playing the part of Oliver Queen the young billionaire, he knew that outright telling the pair to leave would be pushing things, even for him. "It's a bit crowded at my house, and I wanted to come down here to get a little privacy."

"Yeah." Thankfully, Felicity managed to pick up on the underlying message in his words. Sending an understanding look his way, at such a fast speed that he could have missed it had he blinked, she rose from her chair. "Come on, Barry. We cane watched the countdown from Big Belly Burger."

Barry rose to follow the blonde, but paused for a second as he looked over at Oliver. "Your blood analysis is almost done." He told the archer.

"Thank you." Oliver said. While the young CSI's presence in the Foundry hadn't sat well with him in the beginning, he had to admit that the man was slowly starting to grow on him. Add to this the facts that he had both aided in finding key information about Gold in the first place, and been good enough to test his blood once the… _side effects_ started showing up, and Oliver knew that he could at least make an effort to be nice to Barry Allen.

The pair were gone a few seconds later, and Oliver made his way over to the weapons case, letting out a deep sigh at the silence that had descended over the lair. After everything that had happened over the past week, it was nice to just have some time to himself. Grabbing his bow and an arrow, he stepped back into the centre of the room. While there were still certain issues surrounding him donning the hood, there were no such qualms about a little target practise. Bouncing the tennis ball once, Oliver tossed it up into the air. He allowed it one bounce across the room before nocking the arrow and firing, the motion fluid, the arrow soaring through the air-

Before being caught by Slade Wilson.

"What's the matter, kid?" Slade asked with a sneer. Oliver couldn't move, dumbfounded at the sudden appearance of the man who had once been a brother to him in all but blood. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

While Aidan had quickly come to despise the man, he had to admit that Gold certainly knew how to pick a decent hideout. The old building in the Glades looked to be one of the handful that had escaped the Undertaking with barely a scratch in the brick to show for it, making it less of a focus to the authorities than the areas that had been less fortunate. It wasn't in one of the district's numerous red zones when it came to crime, and just the briefest of glances would tell even the most clueless idiot that it had been abandoned for a very long time. Just another empty shell in a slowly dying city, left to decay while its former owner got as far away as possible. In the still recovering Glades, it didn't exactly to anything to draw the eye.

Well, except for the eyes of the small police squad and their vigilante tagalong, that is.

Aidan had almost been surprised to get the short call from Lance, due both to the time it had taken him to get the usually lacklustre SCPD moving, and due to the very little the pair had worked together. With the Arrow, he at least knew what he was getting himself in for when the phone rang, but with the cop? Things could very easily take a sharp turn at any second. Aidan had never been the most trusting in authority figures growing up, and this had only spiked when he'd first donned the mask. Even now, there was a small voice at the back of his mind, warning him about what might come. Maybe this was a setup, a plan to catch him unawares and lock him up, away from those he cared about. Maybe the cops would try and take both him and Gold down at once, killing two birds with one stone, as it were. As soon as these thoughts appeared, however, Aidan brushed them away. There were far easier ways for him to be cornered by the police, and Cyrus Gold had already proved himself to be far more dangerous than any vigilante. He would trust in Lance, and the Arrow's judgement, when it came to ending this threat.

Still, it never hurt to be careful.

From the shadows of the alleyway that faced the building, he watched as the handful of officers approached a side door, weapons and flashlights already in hand. It seemed that Lance had been successful in convincing the others of Gold's danger, and they were taking no chances.

"Are you sure he's in there?" Aidan's sharpened ears could easily make out the muffled words from one of the cops, a detective he guessed from the lack of a uniform, as the squad took the final steps before reaching the door.

"Yes, sir." Another of the cops, a female one, replied. "Sector car spotted Cyrus Gold entering. He hasn't left."

"Safeties off." Lance ordered, before gesturing to another officer. The man moved to the door, a crowbar in hand, and Aidan could hear the metal of the lock give way as the door swung open. The police squad wasted no time in moving in, and it took only another second before the young vigilante followed, darting across the small gap and vaulting the chain link fence that separated the two buildings. Moving softly, he slipped in, careful not to make a sound as he followed the footsteps and beams of light coming from the police.

His eyes peered around the darkened room as he moved. The place looked to have once been a carpentry shop, with wood and tools all over the place. Keeping to the shadows, Aidan kept one eye on the small team as they too inspected the place, shining their lights on everything as they hunted for their elusive target.

Their search didn't take long.

From out of nowhere, Aidan heard something slice through the air, before one of the SWAT officers fell to the ground with a brief grunt of pain, a circular sawblade stuck deep in his back. It didn't take a genius to work out that the man was dead. And, from the ferocity of the attack that had killed him, it was clear who was responsible.

The cops wasted no time in wheeling round to where the attack had come from, gunfire lighting up the room as they shot wildly into the dark. This was stopped, however, as Gold dropped down from the roof, right into the heart of the squad, face obscured by a blank mask. The man wasted no time in attacking, shoving the female officer hard and sending her flying across the room. Aidan leapt forward at the sight, arms stretched out as he tried to catch the flying woman. In the moment before she collided with several barrels, he succeeded in getting between her and wrapping his arms carefully around her. The momentum of the shove that had sent her flying, however, could not be so easily corrected, and Aidan groaned as his back glanced painfully off the barrels, hard wood cracking into pieces under the combined weight of cop and vigilante. Quickly rolling over, he laid the female officer down, eyes roaming for any outward sign of injury. She was alive, thankfully, although the force of Gold's attack had knocked her out cold.

The sounds of continued fighting brought his attention back to the matter at hand. Gold was fending off the rest of the police squad with ease, one arm holding an officer in place as he kicked a desk at another, the heavy object crashing into the man who was sent flying. Aidan, still picking himself up from the debris he'd landed in, could only watch as Gold shattered the arm he was still holding, before picking the hapless SWAT officer up and throwing him across the room, as though the man were nothing more than a ragdoll he had discarded. When Aidan looked back, he was gone.

Seeing the remaining two officers begin to move, the shock of what had just happened wearing off quickly, Aidan moved too, stepping away from the female officer and back into the shadows. He made his way over to the nearest body, that of the man who had been hit by the desk. Kneeling down beside him, the young vigilante pressed a hand to the man's throat, feeling for a pulse, a faint breath, some sign of life. There was none to be found, although that didn't come as a complete surprise. From the way Gold had hurled him, it would have taken a miracle for the man to walk away with his life. Bowing his head in respect, Aidan let his hand drift down the officer's face, closing the man's lifeless eyes as he did so.

A loud crash from further into the abandoned shop caught Aidan's attention. Rising to his feet, he quickly began to make his way towards the source of the sound, silently berating himself for allowing himself to lose sight of the primary goal. Like it or not, there was still work to be done, and Aidan knew that, unless he wanted what was left of the police squad to meet the fate of their fallen comrades, he needed to stay on target. For the time being, the dead could wait.

Following the noises that echoed through the near empty building, Aidan turned a corner before he stopped, eyes quickly taking in the scene before him. The two cops had succeeded in catching up to Gold, although it was abundantly clear to see which of the two sides was coming out on top. Lance was already out for the count, if it could even be classified as such, laying unconscious on the ground after clearly having taken one hell of a beating. There seemed to be something clutched in one of the man's hands, although whatever it was remained concealed from the vigilante's eyes. The sole remaining member of the police squad was barely doing any better than his partner, having already been forced to his knees by Gold, the masked man currently holding the detective's hand, complete with sidearm, in his own. As Aidan watched, Gold steadily began to force the weapon around, moving it closer and closer to its owner as the man's intentions became crystal clear.

Seeing the barrel of the gun begin to brush against the detective's chin, Aidan began to move once more, darting forward while reaching for one of his batons. His approach drew Gold's attention, although not quickly enough to stop the vigilante from flicking his weapon at the man's fist, the metal road forcing it, and the gun that was now firmly beneath the detective's chin, downwards. Barely a second after this, Aidan himself slammed into Gold, using all the force he could muster to shove the man-shaped monster away from his captive. A loud gunshot accompanied this shift, and the young vigilante's eyes widened in horror as he heard the familiar noise of a body slumping to the ground, head whipping round a second later to take in the prone form of the detective.

The image brought with it a powerful surge of anger, and Aidan could feel every single muscle in his body tighten as a red mist slowly descended over his vision, the colour not too dissimilar from the blood now spreading across the floor. He had no idea whether or not the detective was still alive, but that didn't matter. This man and his team had come here to put an end to Gold's crimes, to bring justice to those he had murdered, and now he was going to die for it?

Well, if that was the case, then Aidan could at the very least ensure that the detective's mission did not end in failure.

With a wordless roar, the young vigilante hurled himself at Gold, tapping into his new abilities as he threw attack after attack at the figure. For the first few seconds, it seemed to be working, with Gold failing to put up any defence to the onslaught being brought against him. In fact, the man seemed almost surprised at the situation, allowing Aidan to get in close to a dozen powerful strikes to his foe's chest, neck and masked face. This advantage, however, didn't last long, and soon enough Aidan found himself faced with just as many swings coming at him as were being sent out. This only served to further fuel the fire burning inside of him, and the young man grinned beneath his mask as the fight grew, ignoring the blood already running from his split lip.

How long the brawl lasted, Aidan had no idea. Any and all concepts of time, of anything, just seemed to fall away as the pair fought, neither criminal nor vigilante willing to give up, not before one of them lay broken at the feet of the other. It didn't take either side long to expand their arsenals, and Aidan soon found himself scrambling to use whatever he could lay his hands on to his benefit, while simultaneously fending off Gold, who had clearly had the same idea. He winced as his arm blocked a strike from a table leg, the heavy wooden object sending painful vibrations through his limb, before he returned fire with the help of a discarded hammer. Several heavy strikes to the ribs, and Gold was sent stumbling back, complete with a very satisfying _crack_. Still, as Aidan ducked under a sawblade that would likely have sliced his skull in half, it was clear that, unless something were to happen soon, the fight wouldn't be coming to an end any time soon, the abilities of the pair making it so that, unless one of them managed to deal a truly decisive strike, the victor would simply be whoever didn't pass out from sheer exhaustion.

Before such an event could occur, however, the air was suddenly filled with the sound of multiple sirens, the volume growing with every second. Aidan couldn't tell whether they were ambulances or police reinforcements, but whatever they were, they were quickly getting closer. The approaching din managed to finally shake Aidan out of his anger, reality rushing back to him as he finally began to feel the backlash of the fight. Unfortunately, it also served to give Gold an additional boost in energy, the man swinging one last hard punch that connected with Aidan's jaw, sending him careening back. Righting himself, he turned back to face his opponent, only to find that Gold had once against vanished, as swiftly as he'd arrived.

Nursing his jaw, Aidan paused for a moment as he considered his next step. He could go after Gold, which, thanks to both his injuries and the man's disappearing without a trace, would likely prove completely fruitless. He could check on the two officers behind him, although the incoming sirens warned him that such an action could easily turn dangerous very quickly. Or, he could head back to base, lick his wounds and wait for Gold to pop up once again. The decision was made a hell of a lot easier a few seconds later, as the sirens finally stopped growing louder and were accompanied by the thudding of approaching footsteps, moving very quickly towards his position. Eager to avoid both capture and incorrectly implicating himself, Aidan headed deeper into the shop, wounds hampering his movement somewhat as he searched for a way out. Spotting a nearby window, he hurried over and, after several solid swings of his baton to remove the glass, he pulled himself through, dropping to the alley outside just as the beams of several flashlights swept over where he had just been.

Taking several deep breaths to ease the exhaustion and dizziness, Aidan slowly began to pull himself up, tired and bruised muscles straining at the effort, before beginning to make his way back towards where his bike awaited him. Super healing or not, he knew that Sin would definitely have her work cut out for her when he got back. Still, at least that would give him plenty of time to come up with a new plan of attack for when he and Gold next met. Aidan had no intention of coming to another draw against the man.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Lance groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness. His entire body felt like it had been hit by at least half a dozen trucks, which, considering the psychopathic monster he had gone up against, actually seemed a relatively accurate assessment. Looking around, it wasn't hard to recognise the hospital room he'd been moved to, prior experience making the process go by just a little faster. He was a cop, after all, and even the luckiest officers on the force couldn't avoid at least one trip to the A&E.

Movement to the side of the bed caught his eye, and Lance turned his head far enough to see Laurel sat beside him, the young woman having been quick to spot his return to the land of the living.

"Dad!" She exclaimed, tears sliding down her face.

"Honey. Honey." Lance tried to comfort his daughter, reaching over and grasping her hand in his own. The contact did manage to calm her down somewhat, and the old cop took that moment as he quickly gave his body a once-over. "Well, I can wiggle my toes; it must be a good sign." The attempt at a joke didn't seem to have any affect on Laurel, and he looked over to her again. "I'm all right, honey, I'm fine." He assured her. Another thought popped into his mind in that second, one that sent his awareness through the roof. "How's Lucas, is he alright? And the others." He couldn't remember what had happened to his old partner, Gold having pounced on him before the detective of the pair could arrive, and concern washed through him as he wondered at the state of both his friend and those who had accompanied them.

The look on Laurel's face had the potential to make Lance's heart stop in his chest, the sadness it displayed enough for a blind man to recognise. Still, there was something, a slight twinge of hope, that kept him going. "He, uh, he's still in surgery." She told him, the tears making it hard for her to speak. "T-the doctors aren't sure of anything yet, but he's alive. Daily's fine, but Jones hasn't woken up yet. The others…" She trailed off, her tears expressing more than words ever could.

It took Lance a few seconds to break through the shock of what he had just heard before he could even begin trying to process it. If his injuries were like a truck hitting him, this was tantamount to being flattened by a steamroller. So many thoughts and emotions flooded through his mind at once, almost enough to completely overwhelm him. Panic, grief, concern, fury, terror, relief, and what felt like a thousand more. Lance tried to hold it back, to stop the maelstrom from breaking through to the surface, but, as his vision began to swim with tears, he knew that this was a battle he stood no chance of winning.

"I got to call Jeannie." He choked out weakly, feeling the tracks that were forming down his cheeks as he said the only words his mouth could form. "I got to call his wife." The wife that, if it hadn't been for him, Hilton would be Christmas shopping with.

"No, Dad, I'll do it." Laurel stopped him, although her own tears made the words waver slightly. "You just stay here, get some rest." The young woman rose from her seat and vanished through the door, leaving Lance alone with his thoughts and raging emotions. With his only witness gone, however, the tears fell far more freely, as Lance wept for his friend, for the man who might as well have been part of the family. Images of the man, interacting with a younger Laurel and Sara, flittered through his mind. Hilton had been there for him after Sara's 'death', after the whole world had fallen apart, and now he was practically at death's door because of Lance, because he had asked for his help.

The old cop's tears dried up after several minutes, however, as the tumultuous feelings were suppressed, one after the other, in favour of a burning, righteous anger. Hilton was hurt, half of the team was dead, because of Cyrus Gold. Looking over at the nightstand, Lance picked up the key that rested there, the key that had had pulled off that monster. And, as he turned the small metal object over in his hand, he swore that, no matter what, Hilton's suffering would not be in vain. Cyrus Gold would pay.

The window of the room slid open and, as if summoned by the police officer's thoughts, the Arrow climbed through. "How are you, Detective?" He asked softly.

"I'm alive. Unlike a third of my unit." The cop replied bitterly. "Suppose I should thank your friend that the count ain't higher."

The vigilante nodded in agreement. "I'm sorry about your partner." Lance looked down at the word, guilt welling up in his throat.

"I took him in there."

"Because of me." The Arrow said, the regret heavy in his voice.

Lance didn't even attempt to suppress the look he gave the hooded archer. "I hate to disappoint you, but not every death in this city is on you." Before the vigilante could say anything in response, the cop placed the key he held back down on the nightstand, giving it a gentle push away from him. "I got this off Gold." He said by way of explanation. "Hopefully you can do something with it." The Arrow picked the key up, taking a second to look it over. "I didn't believe it at first, but this guy, I mean, it's like he's not human." It was true. If anything, Gold seemed more like a modern Frankenstein's monster, which, given what Starling had been through recently, wouldn't have surprised him.

"He's human." The Arrow assured him, the simple phrase giving the grizzled cop the final push he needed to say what came next.

Lance struggled to sit upright, before fixing the vigilante with a steely gaze. "Well, then you can kill him. For Hilton. And me." He said harshly.

That one command shattered practically every single principle surrounding the law that Lance had ever held, and, if the circumstances had been any different, the old cop would never have condoned such an order. But, Gold had to be stopped, before anyone else paid the price.

For those he had murdered. For the countless lives he had already ruined.

For Hilton.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Ever since Oliver had first returned from Lian Yu, there had only been a handful of things in his life that could qualify as 'relaxing' for him. Reconnecting with his family had often been a challenge at the best of times, while the activities he pursued before his time in purgatory had become empty, the former playboy having outgrown his rowdy ways even if parts of it were necessary for his mask as 'Oliver Queen'. And his mission required him to be on his toes at all times, with any comforts falling far behind in importance.

Still, if there was one thing that could, at the very least, distract him from his never-ending work for even a little while, it was the grinding of arrowheads. Something about the task, the repetitive nature with a simple goal, was almost hypnotic to the archer, allowing his mind to wander while his hands acted purely on autopilot.

Thanks to the almost-maddening maelstrom of thoughts in his head right now, though, it was hard to class this as a good thing.

As the already sharp blade grew finer still in front of him, Oliver took the chance to think over everything that had happened over the past few days. Gold, Thea's 'investigation', and the two spectres he had seen, in particular. The first two of these were the easiest to assess. His anger at Gold and whoever it was pulling the strings was already reaching the limits of Oliver's tolerance. The man had managed to leave a trail of chaos across the city, unearth some of the archer's most despised memories, and had been responsible for far too many deaths. Oliver knew that, if any doubts had still somehow lingered before tonight, the fate of Lance's team had cemented his conclusions surrounding the abomination. Gold needed to be stopped, before he dragged the rest of the city down with him, and before Thea and her friends managed to stumble across something they shouldn't. The mere idea of his baby sister somehow getting caught up in this sent a wave of fear through him, along with a resolve to ensure that such a thing would never happen.

Although, given his recent 'visitations', it was practically impossible to suppress the doubt he felt at actually being able to see such a task through.

"I think those are sharp enough." Diggle's voice managed to cut through his thoughts, the surprise Oliver felt thankfully not registering on the surface. Pulling the arrow away and shutting off the grinder, he turned to face his friend.

"Apparently I'm not." He said ruefully. Thoughts and concerns still roiled in his head, and the bodyguard's presence seemed to be all they needed to break forth. "Diggle, do you think I'm losing my mind?" He asked plaintively.

Diggle moved closer, a calming look on his face. "No more than the rest of us." He assured the billionaire, although it wasn't enough to stop Oliver from letting out a sigh. He needed to talk to someone about this, and Diggle was perhaps the only one he knew who might understand what was going on inside his head.

"I saw Slade Wilson." He began, memories of both their time on the island and the more recent beatdown flashing before his eyes. "Slade was my friend on the island, and like Shado, he is dead because of me. Mr Lance told me that not every death in this city is my fault. Fine." He sighed. "There are plenty that are." Oliver took a moment to control his breathing as old wounds opened up once more, the pain as fresh as ever. So many people were gone, because he hadn't been fast enough, hadn't been strong enough. Because he hadn't been good enough. Maybe Slade was right. Maybe he really was weak.

He was pulled out of his dark thoughts once more by Dig, who had now adopted a more contemplative look. "When I got home from Afghanistan, I saw a ghost, too." He admitted. "Survivor's guilt. Why us, not them."

"I know why." Oliver argued, and Diggle nodded in silent agreement.

"Then the 'why's' not your problem." The older man said."

"How'd you make your ghost go away?" Oliver asked.

"I figured out what they were trying to tell me." Diggle explained with a shrug.

"Which was?" The archer asked hopefully. Right now, he would give anything to avoid any more visits from the past.

This was not to be, however, as Diggle only smiled sadly back at him. "That's for me to hear, Oliver." He said. "You have to figure out what yours is trying to tell you."

Oliver looked down at his lap, brow furrowed in a mix of irritation and consideration at his friend's words. Diggle was right, this was up to him to solve. He could only hope that the message would turn up sooner rather than later.

"Guys, we got something." Felicity suddenly called out, her voice pulling the two men over to her and whatever it was she and Barry had discovered surrounding their newest piece of evidence. "I scanned the key Lance gave you, and traced its serial code back to the manufacturer." Oliver could practically feel the weight of his dark thoughts relax slightly. At last, they actually had a chance to find Gold before he could strike again.

"This particular key fits a locked gate somewhere on Crescent Circle in the Glades." Barry informed him. Oliver nodded to the younger man briefly, before reaching for his bow.

"Where are you going?" Felicity asked, worry in every word. "You can't go out there in your condition."

"I have to stop this." Oliver said, in a tone that brooked no argument. There was no more time for substitutes or reconnaissance. This was it, and nothing could change that.

That didn't stop Felicity from trying, however. "Oliver, Gold left you half dead, which is almost 50 percent better than how he left Lance's partner." She said in a rush.

"Felicity." He cut her off. "I don't have a choice." Seeing the look on her face, he softened slightly. "I'll come back." Even as he said the words, he could hear how hollow they sounded.

"Promise me." The blonde hacker begged. Oliver didn't reply this time, only giving her a sorrowful look before moving off, bow in one hand and phone in the other.

One way or another, this nightmare would end tonight. And this time, he would be going in with all guns blazing.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Sin was pissed off. No, screw that, she was nearing apoplectic levels of rage.

Three hours ago, Aidan, or rather Damocles, had gotten a call from a newfound ally cop about a raid that was about to go down. Sin knew who they were going after, thanks to the thin file she had received the night before. Cyrus Gold, someone tied to a great deal of theft, breaking & entering and murder, and who, according to both the _Arrow_ , seemed to have the same level of strength as the young vigilante. Sin had watched as her friend had suited up and left, promises of being careful echoing through the underground lair.

An hour and a half later, and he had shown up again, looking like he'd been shoved head first through a blender. Hence, one angry Glades girl.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?!" She demanded, the words coming out in a furious hiss as she finally finished looking her friend over, doing what little she could to prevent her anger from blowing forth, a task made far harder by the state of the young vigilante. Severe bruising was spread over almost his entire body, particularly on his face, torso and knuckles. At least three cracked ribs, an almost broken collarbone, two broken fingers, a badly split lip, and the start of a concussion. Even with his sped-up healing, which had already begun to work on the lighter injuries, this was still one of the worst collections she had seen on her friend in a long while. "This guy makes 'roiders look like pansies, and you think _punching_ is a good tactic?"

"I'm sorry, alright!" Aidan groaned, one hand pressing an icepack against his bandaged head as he leaned further back in the computer chair he'd collapsed into on arrival. "Things just got a little out of control." Sin huffed at the answer, although part of her knew that she couldn't blame Aidan for everything. Even if a fair amount was his fault.

Both of them had been on edge recently. First Max's death, then the discovery of Aidan's abilities, and now their attempts to track down the one responsible for both with Roy and Thea. The lack of answers had been frustrating to say the least, and neither of the pair were exactly masters of patience when it came to the unknown. Sin could still recall the earlier meeting with Laurel Lance at the Queen mansion, how the muscles in her friend's neck and shoulders had tightened at the revelation that, without a legitimate and legal reason, they could not pursue the only lead they had. From the look on his face, it had been clear how much he wanted to simply pull on his mask and go after their suspicions, only the understanding of what would inevitably follow holding him back. There was no explanation ready for how he would get his hands on more evidence, and, regardless of the friendship that had formed between the quartet, Sin knew that Aidan wasn't _quite_ ready to fully reveal himself to Thea and Roy, even with the developing closeness he seemed to have acquired with the Queen heiress.

The only choice they had was to wait and hope that an opportunity might appear somewhere down the line. Still didn't make things any less annoying, or fully redeem Aidan in Sin's eyes.

"Just, at least _try_ to remember some of your ninja moves next time." She told him, angry frown giving way somewhat to a small grin. "Less of a headache to put you back together that way."

"I'll see what I can do." Aidan promised, a similar smile appearing across his face. Keeping the ice pressed to his skull, he stood slowly, legs shaking a little before growing firmer. "Now, I don't know about you, but I am starving." He said. "How about-"

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off as the sound of a phone ringing began to trill through the air. Neither of them needed to ask _which_ phone as Aidan moved back towards the computers, picking up the noisy device that rested alongside the monitors and answering the call, another quick press putting the thing on speaker phone.

"Yes?" He asked, voice reverting to the seriousness that Sin knew only came with the skull mask.

" _We found Gold."_ The unmistakeable voice of the Arrow reverberated around the room. _"Glades, Crescent Circle."_

"on my way." Aidan replied after a second of deliberation, the edge of a growl slipping into his voice as he ended the call, before heading back towards where his gear, bike and spare uniform waited.

"You can't seriously be considering going back out there." Sin exclaimed, following her friend. "Gold knocked you around like a ragdoll, and you want to give him a chance to finish you off?"

"Hey, I gave as good as I got, alright?" Aidan retorted, clearly annoyed at her, admittedly slightly unfair, assessment. "Besides, it's not like I'm going alone."

"Oh, of course, you've got the Arrow covering your back." Sin shot back, words practically drowning in sarcasm. "The same Arrow who _you_ told me had admitted to being compromised and a liability on this."

"Still better than nothing." Aidan replied, and Sin finally felt herself reach the boiling point.

"So what, you think fighting this lunatic with a self-confessed cripple will help tip the odds in your favour? Or is your ego so badly bruised that you want to ill yourself trying to even the score?" She knew the words were unjust, the result of everything she'd had bottled up, but she didn't care.

"IT'S NOT ABOUT THAT!" Aidan roared, whirling around to face her. Sin froze at the pure fury on her friend's face, the shock preventing any further response. She had known him for years, seen virtually every level of anger he had. They'd argued in the past, to the point where both had ended up yelling at the other. But still, despite all that, he had never acted like this, not to her at least. To be on the receiving end of such fire was…scary, to say the least.

It must have shown on her face, as the anger all but evaporated from Aidan's features a second later, replaced with the same shock as the Glades girl at his outburst, along with a heavy dose of regret.

"I-I didn't mean to-" Aidan stuttered apologetically, clearly working to take back control. Sin remained where she was, staring at her friend, her fingers shaking slightly as she wrapped her arms around herself. A few more seconds of silence passed between the pair, before Aidan once again found his voice.

"I'm not doing this because he beat me." He said, voice almost a whisper as he slowly, hesitantly, stepped towards her. "Gold is…he's like a poison, and I need to stop him before he infects the city, or hurts anyone else. I need to do this." He stared at her for a few more moments, eyes silently pleading. "Please, Sin, say something."

"I don't want to lose you." She whispered eventually, shoulders beginning to shake as she got the words out. A heartbeat later, and Aidan was hugging her, the gesture finally triggering the tears as she clung to him, careful not to press too tightly against his more sensitive wounds, but also wanting to take in as much of him as she could.

"You won't, Cindy." He promised, rubbing her back soothingly. "I promise you, I'll come back. I promise."

Sin didn't reply, simply holding her friend tighter. In a few minutes, he'd be gone, she knew that. As much as she wanted to, she knew she couldn't stop him. But for now, in this moment, she hugged him, silently wishing that everything that had happened since that stupid blood drive had never happened. She didn't care about superpowers, and wanted nothing to do with any kidnapping conspiracies.

She just wanted her friend.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The sound of glass shattering echoed for a moment as Roy forced his elbow into the now-broken window in the locked door. The point of impact, covered by his jacket, throbbed only slightly, and he winced as, extracting his arm for a second, he withdrew a small fragment that had managed to force its way through the sturdy material and into his skin. Leaning against the door, he pushed his arm through the new opening once again, reaching down and feeling blindly for a moment before his fingers caught on their target. A soft _click_ , and the door was unlocked.

When the news that, without a valid and legal reason to properly investigate, they could not pursue their lead had been delivered to the small group in the Queen mansion by Laurel that morning, Roy had been very conscious to hide his anger, forcing it down even as it threatened to burst out of him. Even though he hadn't even known Max existed before a few days previously, he was important to Sin, as well as managing to survive a decent person in the Glades, not a small feat and one that didn't deserve to end in death. These, coupled with the fact that whatever it was they had found was certainly big, big enough for even the Arrow to try and 'convince' him to back off, had severely piqued Roy's interest. Enough that, once the initial surge of anger had sufficiently subsided, he had silently sworn to ensure that the search did not end in Thea's room. Something was going on in the Glades, he knew it in his gut, and he was going to find out what. Even if that meant dipping his toes back into the criminal life he had come from.

Besides, the way he saw it, the arrow wound in his leg made him entitled to the truth of the matter. If he had to go through being impaled and left to bleed out in an alleyway, he deserved to know what it was that had landed him there, at the very least.

Getting into the Langford Institute, the organization that had been involved with the blood drive that Max had disappeared at, hadn't exactly been a challenge, even with his injury, thanks to Roy's prior experience in reaching places he wasn't supposed to. Now, with his last obstacle out of the way, he slowly hobbled into the room, towards a set of filing cabinets.

Ripping open one of the drawers, he quickly began to flip through the files presented to him, one ear kept open to any sudden noise that might facilitate a speedy exit. The last thing he wanted was to be caught unaware, especially when his ability to escape was so badly hampered. His eyes breezing over the files as he flicked past them one by one, Roy finally stopped when a folder came into view, one with a photograph of Max attached to the front. Pulling it out, he leafed through, searching the contents for any kind of evidence. There wasn't much, just a handful of medical reports that didn't pose much interest to the young man.

Closing the file, Roy took a moment to take a look at Max's picture. In his head, the memory of Max's corpse, surrounded by garbage as bloody tears leaked down the sides of his face, began to swim into view, and he shook his head to push the image away. Lifting the photograph, Roy checked the back to see if there was anything of note, and his eyes locked on the prominent word that had been stamped onto the paper in large black letters. He traced his gaze over the unfamiliar word, committing it to memory. It could easily prove to be another lead they could follow to the source, a chance to learn of whatever secret it was that had cost Max his life, even if he had no idea what it meant.

It certainly sounded odd. **'MIRAKURU'.**

A noise from the office that connected to the one he was in caught Roy's attention, and he scrambled to hide behind a desk as someone came in. Staying as quiet as possible, Roy waited as, after few seconds of silence, whoever had come in began to move again, the soft footsteps accompanied by a wet splashing. It was as though something were being poured around the room. A strangely sweet smell caught in Roy's nostrils, and his eyes widened as he caught on to what was happening, his brain stepping into overdrive as he considered escape routes.

Someone was pouring gasoline everywhere, certainly as a precursor to burning the whole place down, and he had no intention of sticking around for the blaze.

Finally settling on loud and fast, Roy jumped up from behind the desk and raced for the exit to the room, shoving the surprised arsonist out of the way and into the wall as he ran through the door and out into the hall, his mind racing faster with every second. What the _hell_ had Max gotten himself mixed up with? First a corpse with a mystery death, then the Arrow sounding as close to afraid as Roy was ever likely to hear from the archer, and now someone was going to torch the building in an effort to destroy any evidence? Things had definitely taken a nosedive into insanity levels of weird.

Racing down the hall, Roy's overpacked mind was suddenly brought to a halt as an arm shot out in front of him, too suddenly for him to stop or even notice before it was too late. Hitting the unexpected limb hard, he fell to the floor, head cracking painfully against the ground. His vision blurring, Roy stared dumbly as someone loomed over him. A man in a featureless black mask looked down at him, the blank face seeming to swallow up everything as he slipped into unconsciousness.

When he woke, he was somewhere very different. Eyes swivelling around the dimly lit room, Roy tried to move, only to discover that he had been strapped to the chair, the bonds around his wrists and ankles refusing to give even an inch. The sound of movement from behind him drew his attention, and he twisted his head to find the source. There, right behind him and only visible from the corner of his eye, was a monster of a man, staring impassively at him. Even without the mask, Roy could tell that this was the man who had grabbed him. His eyes were momentarily drawn to the bruises that mottled the man's cheek, as well as the clearly broken nose, before his focus was drawn elsewhere.

"It's ready." Another person announced, and Roy's head whipped around to focus on his other side. There was a setup like a laboratory, with two men stood beside a device. One of them was the man from the office, can of gasoline now absent as he passed a needle to his colleague. The other man, at least Roy thought it was a man, was markedly different, dressed in a black suit and head covered by a creepy leather mask shaped like a skull, one he had seen before.

"Is this where you killed Max Stanton, hmm?" Roy asked as the masked man stepped forward. After seeing the countless paintings in the dead man's apartment, it was hardly rocket science to put the pieces together. Whoever this was had been involved with Max, and was likely the reason for his death. He eyed the syringe the man held, his attention held by both the needle and the green substance held within. Almost instantly, he could feel fear begin to spread throughout his body. Roy hated needles at the best of times, and being bound to a chair in a dingy lab with a masked loony about to inject him with what might as well be washing up liquid for all he knew was _far_ from the best time. "What are you doing? If you stick that in me, I'll kill you." He threatened, muscles straining as he tried to break free of his bonds to no avail.

The masked man grabbed him forcefully by the throat, pushing his airways closed as his head was forced painfully to the side. "No, Brother Roy." The heavily distorted voice said ominously as the needle slid into the flesh of Roy's shoulder. "You'll kill for me." The green liquid vanished, and Roy screamed out as pain suddenly flooded through his entire being. His nerves were on fire, his blood boiled, his bones strained to the point of breaking, and his head felt as though it was about to explode.

So great was the pain, Roy couldn't take in anything taking place outside his own torture-filled being. Not the eyes of the man in the skull mask, staring at him in sick fascination. Not the explosion that took part of the ceiling with it. And not the two new figures that dropped down from the newly-made skylight.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The area known as Crescent Circle had never exactly been the nicest place in Starling City. Even before the Undertaking, at least two-thirds of the buildings had been abandoned for anywhere over half a decade by those who had owned them, either left as empty shells to crumple away or as shelters for the desperate and homeless of the city, those who Starling had chewed up and spat back out. There had been work here, once upon a time, when the city had yet to start falling towards chaos and ruin, although that had quickly dried up when most of the businesses had upped and left in favour of cheaper production, with the handful that remained taking heavy hits from rising crime and worsening conditions before jumping on the bandwagon following the Undertaking. Now, the place was little more than an overgrown graveyard, empty factories acting as tombstones to the life and industry that had once inhabited them.

In short, it was the perfect spot for a criminal hideout.

Waiting as the Arrow unlocked the gate in front of them with a gold key, Aidan cast hid eye over the seemingly abandoned building that loomed over them, searching for any detail that stood out. This task was made more challenging by the painful throbbing in his head beneath both the mask and the bandage wrapped around his skull. This, coupled with the dull aches and occasional flickers of pain from the rest of him, only served to layer him in a distracting cloud, one that even months of experience and training couldn't fully extinguish. Even with this, however, his mind still failed to completely lose its sharp edge, pulling together whatever it could. He had been hearing reports about this place from his homeless network for a while, whispers of odd movement and strange noises from within. Not enough to draw his immediate attention, but sufficient to merit a level of curiosity. Eyes still tracing the structure, picking out potential areas of interest, he drew together the origins of a plan. If the Arrow was correct in this being Gold's hideout, he was not going to make the mistake of rushing in blind again. Getting beaten twice in the same night was not an appealing thought for anyone.

The click of a lock pulled Aidan back to the present. The key worked, the gate opening providing confirmation that this was the right place. Pushing the metal obstacle carefully aside, the Arrow stepped through, gesturing with one hand to follow. Aidan quickly fell into step alongside the archer, and the two vigilantes made their way side by side up to the main doors.

"Stay alert." The Arrow said in a low voice, stopping just beside the entrance and turning to face Aidan. "There's no telling what will happen when we're in."

"If this place has a basement, he's probably there." Aidan replied, hands automatically falling to his batons and pulling them out. "Most secure location, limited access routes." It's where he would've hidden, and experience had taught him to trust his gut on these things.

The Arrow's hooded head nodded briefly in understanding. "Keep your ears open, and stay quiet." The archer warned, an arrow already nocked on his bowstring. "Last thing we need is another ambush." And with that, they were moving again, in through the dark doorway.

As they made their way through the empty building, the amount of dust on practically every surface showing that this section, at least, hadn't been used in a while, Aidan's ears were open and alert to every sound they could pick up on. His new hearing truly came in handy, at least once he'd succeeded in tuning out the footsteps being made by himself and the Arrow, quiet shuffles that, with his enhancements, might as well have been gunshots in the almost-disturbing silence. Aside from this, there was very little of note. Noises from outside, the occasional shift of a sheet or one of the many rodents that had made their home here. Certainly nothing that might suggest the presence of a super strong psycho. Not a surprising situation, however, Aidan conceded. If someone was hiding here, they certainly wouldn't be doing so near the front, where anyone who happened to wander by could catch wind of their goings on, a point confirmed by the layer of dust over everything, undisturbed by footprints until tonight.

That all changed, however, as the vigilante duo made their way further in, away from the large central room and into the smaller hallways. These were cleaner, as though they had seen more use than the rest of the place. As they moved through one of the hallways, Aidan's ears suddenly latched on to something new. A faint murmur, growing louder with every step. Another few feet forwards, and the faint buzz of sound finally began to form words.

'… _ready…illed Max Sta…I'll kill yo…'_

"Beneath us." Aidan whispered, stopping where he was as he called out to the Arrow, still trying to pick things up with more clarity. The archer stopped, turning around at the signal with curiosity clear in his stance.

"You sure?" He asked. "I don't hear anything."

Aidan was about to elaborate further when the air was suddenly filled with the sound of a scream. Not a very loud noise, but more than enough in the silence to back up the claim.

It took less than a second for the archer to act, drawing an arrow from his quiver and targeting it at the concrete floor several feet away from him. Aidan's eyes were drawn momentarily to the flashing light that came from the small attachment to the shaft just below the head, before the Arrow fired and the ground exploded in front of the pair. Shielding his eyes for a second, Aidan looked back to see that a hold had formed in the ground, with a dim light from below shining up into the darkened hallway.

This view was almost immediately blocked by the green leather form of the Arrow as he shot another arrow down, this one trailing a line of cable behind it, before he stepped forward and through, into the basement below. Aidan wasn't far behind, pausing only for a second to ensure that his boots would hit concrete, rather than his fellow crime fighter. His eyes were already in motion as he descended, taking in every possible sight before he even landed, instinctively dropping into a defensive stance.

The basement was grim, to say the least. There wasn't much in the small space, aside from a table laden with varying pieces of equipment and a single chair, in which rested a hunched over figure, obviously the one responsible for the practically blood-wrenching scream that had prompted the sudden entrance from the vigilantes. It only took a second of close examination to identify the pained victim, and Aidan's eyes widened as he realised it was Roy. How the hell had he ended up here?!

The sound of an arrow whistling through the air grabbed at his attention, and Aidan's eyes were drawn to the other occupants of the room. It was obvious who had drawn the focus of the Arrow, as a man writhed on the ground, quiet moans escaping his mouth as he grasped at the arrow protruding from his leg. Given the clothing, it was easy to see that the man was a scientist of some kind, probably the one responsible for creating whatever was causing such pain for Roy. Pulling his gaze away from the downed figure, after quickly taking note of the gun that had fallen nearby, he turned to take in the rest of the trio. Gold was unmistakeable, the man's bulky form identifying him with or without his mask, although the battered features did somewhat take away from his intimidating stance. Aidan couldn't help but grin beneath his mask at the sight. While he himself had taken one hell of a beating, it was gratifying to know that his opponent had not walked away unscathed. The only issue now was ensuring that he stayed down for good, rather than escape once again. The final man was also easily identifiable, the almost grotesque mask having been burned into Aidan's mind, first from the few memories he could recall of his 'disappearance', and then from the dozens of creepy portraits Max had painted. So, this was the man behind the monster, the one who had been responsible for his friend's death and whatever had brought about Aidan's new abilities. And now, he had decided to target Roy.

There was no doubt in Aidan's mind by this point. Once he got his hands on him, Skull Face would not be leaving in anything other than a full body cast. At best.

"Brother Cyrus told me he killed you." The man in the mask said, his voice heavily distorted to the point that it grated on Aidan's ears.

"Guess he's not as strong as you hoped." The Arrow growled, arrow pointed directly at the man's chest. "Where'd you get the Mirakuru? Who gave you the formula?!" Aidan's brow creased at the odd-sounding word. It wasn't hard to guess that it was the name of the green serum that the man in the skull mask was using, but there was just something about it that seemed to itch at the back of his mind, just out of reach.

"It was a gift." Skull Face said, cradling the needle in his hands almost lovingly, ignoring Roy as he screamed in pain. "A gift I would use to save this city from itself."

It was clear to see that the man was, if not completely insane, then seriously missing a few screws. Before he could decipher the man's words further, however, Aidan was thrown into action as Gold rushed towards the vigilante duo, his intentions crystal clear. At the same time, the scientist on the ground managed to lay a scrabbling hand on his gun, the weapon slowly rising to target the pair. As the Arrow focused on the larger threat, an arrow already lancing through the air and into the man's shoulder, Aidan turned to deal with the second, darting towards the man with his own weapons ready. As the barrel finally reached his body, he lashed out, both metal bars coming crashing down on the scientist's arm. The bones in the limb shattered upon impact, the gun falling back to the ground as its bearer screamed in pain, almost as loud as the screams of his victim. Aidan didn't wait a second before continuing, the sounds of the fight behind him reminding him of the much larger issue. A quick steel-capped kick to the face, and the scientist's head hit the stone, blood pooling from his nose. He certainly wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. One threat down, and Aidan turned to face the second, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Unfortunately, things were going significantly worse for the Arrow. The archer had seemingly attempted to use the cable still leading up through the hole in the ceiling to his advantage, swinging around it to deliver a kick to Gold, the arrow protruding from the man's shoulder having done little to slow him down. The attack however, ended before it could begin, as Gold grabbed the archer's leg and hurled him across the room, slamming into the concrete wall and leaving an indentation before he collapsed to the ground.

This sight, coupled with the cries of pain still coming from Roy, caused Aidan to jump into action, hurling himself at Gold as he moved towards the downed archer. He forced himself not to give in to the red rage that was flickering around the edges of his vision, instead using the energy it provided to slam his batons into the back of Gold's head, all of his pain and anger flowing through the metal as they made contact with bone. The strike sent painful vibrations up his arms, fingers growing lax around their grips enough for the weapons to slip free, clattering loudly to the ground. The attack wasn't a total failure, however, as twin lines of blood decorated the back of Gold's head, with the man himself stumbling forwards at the strike. While it hadn't taken the man down, it had certainly drawn his attention, giving the Arrow more time to return to the fray while also hopefully throwing the strongman's mental processes off-balance, along with his stability. Unfortunately, it failed to do anything to dissuade Gold in his almost single-minded desire for carnage, and Aidan was forced to duck back as the man's other fist came flying up, although not quickly enough. There was a crack and a flash of pain, before Aidan found himself stumbling backwards into a concrete pillar, his nose certainly broken and blood leaking out to stain the fabric that covered it while his back flared in pain at the sudden and painful stop.

It took a few seconds for him to push himself back up again, and it was clear that it had been a few seconds too long. Gold, rather than pursue the injured Damocles, had decided to return his focus to the Arrow, the green-clad vigilante still on the ground and scrabbling for his bow. Before he could fight back, however, Gold was there, delivering a hard kick to the archer's stomach that sent him sliding further across the floor, ricocheting off another pillar before a desk stopped his progress. Aidan watched helplessly as the vigilante shook his head for a moment before looking up, head turned towards where Skull Face was stood over Roy. The skull-masked man also turned to look, watching as a finger was pressed to the bound man's neck.

"Another failure." Skull Face announced, disappointment heavy in his tone. The words seemed to echo through the small space, although they caused very different reactions in the two vigilantes who heard them. The Arrow slumped to the ground once more, seemingly having given up at the death of Roy. In Aidan, however, it was as though a new fire had been lit inside him, one that spread through his body like a bolt of lightning.

Using the concrete pillar as a launch platform, he hurled himself forward once again, hands clenched tightly into fists as he swung at Gold, the man having turned slightly to follow the Arrow. The man's side was presented to him, and Aidan's mind flashed back to a lesson of Sara's from months ago, one centred on pressure points. Forcing his anger back, the young vigilante used the few seconds he had to find his target, directing his arms to strike at the top of Gold's arm. It was like hitting a brick wall, and Aidan was pretty certain that at least one finger had been broken in the attack, but it was worth it. Gold swung around to face him, and it was clear to see how one of his arms, the one that had taken the hit, was unresponsive, dangling limply by his side while the other was raised in preparation for a strike. Aidan grinned as he ducked under the blow, circling around the giant to stand behind him. He wouldn't let his rage take control of him again, his brain finally taking the controls in the fight. As Gold attempted to turn once again, Aidan sprung forward, one arm circling around his foe's neck while the other went higher, clutching the man's skull. The position was a precarious one, and he only had a few seconds before Gold tossed him off like an enraged bull. Still, that was more than enough time for what he had planned.

As he span around, Aidan twisted the hand that was wrapped around Gold's skull, forcing his thumb towards the man's eye. Gold clearly understood his intentions, and pain erupted up the vigilante's back as the man slammed into one of the concrete pillars, attempting to force his passenger off. Aidan held on still, his digit forcing itself onto and then into Gold eye, pushing in as far as it could go. Warm blood trickled across his gloved hand, and Gold screamed in pain as Aidan kept up his work, destroying the ball of jelly and half blinding his foe. Now, with only one working arm and a severely reduced field of vision, taking him down once and for all would be a far simpler affair.

Or so he thought, before everything went belly up.

The pain had failed to have the effect on Gold that Aidan had wanted, further enraging the man rather than doing anything to slow his efforts. With an almost bestial force, he wrenched his arm around and grabbed onto Aidan's neck, using the grip to haul the vigilante off of him. Aidan's world then proceeded to explode with pain as Gold slammed him painfully into the pillar, using the concrete as an impromptu anvil as he hammered his foe more and more. Aidan's head, already reeling for the broken nose and concussion from his earlier fight, was further damaged as Gold headbutted him roughly, the man's savage attack leaving the vigilante ready to both throw up and pass out. Finally, using Aidan's throat as a grip, Gold picked him up one last time and hurled him into the pillar, with enough force to completely shatter the concrete and keep Damocles going, eventually being stopped by the concrete wall. Slumping to the ground, Aidan's vision was almost non-existent as he forced his head up, resting against the cold stone as he waited for the final blow to come.

It never did.

Although his head was still spinning, his eyes were working just enough to see roughly what was going on, with his ears filling in the blanks. The fast-moving figure in green was easy enough to identify. The Arrow was up and back in the fight, and darting about with far greater speed than before. The archer was practically dancing around Gold, jumping out of the way of attacks and delivering his own with ruthless efficiency. Aidan watched as the hooded man sent Gold stumbling into the makeshift laboratory, before drawing an arrow and firing the blinking light on the shaft alerting the younger man to its payload. The explosion was immense, the arrow succeeding in starting a chain reaction that led to the scientific equipment detonating also, showering Gold in its contents and forcing a scream of agony from the man. He couldn't deny, it was pretty satisfying to see the enhanced enforcer writhe in pain, the chemicals that had sprayed over him eating away at his skin. Still, this only lasted a few moments, before the ceiling, weakened by the explosion, came tumbling down on top of him, the downfall of heavy concrete toppling the giant for good.

Letting his head fall back against the wall, Aidan let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Finally, this was over.

The scrabbling sound of movement caught his attention, and Aidan opened his eyes once again, although one had practically swollen shut. Still, his vision was slowly improving, and he waited as the scene before him slowly swam into view. The Arrow was crouched beside Roy's chair, which had been knocked over in the explosion. His hood was down, although the angle prevented Aidan from seeing the man's face. As he watched, the archer cut Roy free of his bindings and pulled him away from the chair, laying him flat on his back before starting to pump on the young man's chest. A glance to the Glades kid's face allowed Aidan to finally spot the bloody tear streaks, and his breath caught in his throat as his mind latched on to what was happening, remembering Skull Face's declaration. Chest compressions.

Roy wasn't breathing.

"I am not leaving anyone else to die!" The yell snatched Aidan's focus, and it took a moment for him to connect the words to the Arrow. The vigilante's voice modulator was switched off, the deep growl absent in the statement, and Aidan's brow furrowed slightly at the voice. It seemed…familiar.

"You're strong, kid. Come on! Come on!" The Arrow kept talking, almost chanting his plea in time to his compressions. Aidan could only watch as the vigilante kept working, before suddenly stopping and grasping Roy's head in his hands. "Come on, Roy! Fight!" He yelled, desperation clear in his words as he shook the limp figure. "Come on, fight!"

Aidan's heart was pounding like a war drum in his chest as he watched, eyes fixed on Roy's motionless body. The thundering bet froze for a moment, however, as a gasp came from the young man, followed by a series of coughs that allowed the vigilante's heart to start pumping once again. Roy was alive!

The Arrow obviously shared his sentiment, the man's body almost radiating relief as he sat back. The archer's head turned slightly in the process, and Aidan's eyes widened as far as humanly possible at the sight. Oliver Queen sat there, the area around his eyes covered in grease paint as he revelled in Roy's survival. He odd familiarity he had felt only minutes ago rushed back to him, and with it came memories, ones of his few interactions with the billionaire. His death glare when they met before the trial, the way he had stood at his mother's party, his close connection to the mystery 'Felicity'. Everything seemed o obvious now, and Aidan felt like slapping himself for not connecting the dots sooner.

Still, now that he had, a new question was brought to the forefront of his mind. What now?

Deciding that getting up was of more importance in that moment, Aidan pressed his hands flat against the ground, groaning loudly as the action brought fresh pain to his tired and severely battered body. The noise also served to alert the second vigilante to his presence, and Queen's hood was flipped back up in the space of a second as he turned to find the source of the sound. Upon spotting Aidan, the archer rose to his feet, moving swiftly over and reaching out to grasp his arm.

"Are you alright?" He asked, modulator back in full force as he helped Aidan stand. "Looks like you took one hell of a beating."

"Look who's talking." Aidan shot back, rising to his full height and groaning as an irritatingly familiar ache settled over his whole being. He hadn't felt this bad since his first spar with Sara. "I'll be fine." He said to the archer, waiting for the man's grip to fully loosen. "What happened to the other guy?"

"He got away." The vigilante billionaire growled, the anger palpable in both his words and aura.

"We'll find him." Aidan tried to placate the man, although the words had little effect. A particularly painful throb in his head drew another groan from him. "Just not tonight."

The archer simply nodded. "Go rest up." He said gruffly, already turning back to Roy. "I'll finish things here."

Aidan didn't bother with a response as he began to move, ignoring the rappel cable in favour of actual stairs. Thoughts and questions whirled through his mind, the identity of Starling's vigilante Robin Hood at the core of most, and what such a discovery meant to his work.

Shaking his head slowly, Aidan pushed the whole collection aside for the time being. His only concern right now was how he planned to get back to the Crypt. And how pissed Sin would be upon his return.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

The first thing Roy became aware of when he woke up was that he was lying on something soft. The second was that he had no idea how he'd gotten there.

His eyes eased open as consciousness swam back to him, and he took a second to look around. He was in Thea's room, laying on her bed beneath a blanket as though he had fallen asleep there. That on its own was enough to confuse him, and he sat up, struggling to recall how he had ended up here. The last thing he remembered was breaking into the Langford Institute, and coming face-to-face with-

"Roy?!" The shout completely derailed his train of thought, and he looked up to see Thea and Sin rush into the room, surprise prominent on both of their faces.

"Hey, Roy!" Sin said, stopping just beside the bed. The girl looked exhausted, and Roy wondered why. Had they been looking for him, or had something happened that he'd missed?

These thoughts fled as he caught Thea's eyes, the look on her face causing his head to shudder to a halt in fear. "Where have you been?" The young Queen demanded, panic and anger battling for supremacy in her tone. "I've been looking all over for you!"

Roy scrambled for an answer. "I was…" He began, before his mind conjured up another memory, one he had missed before. Strapped to a chair, being injected, pain burning through him. "I was running down another lead." He explained. "It didn't pan out." Not _completely_ a lie, just leaving out a few details.

Thea seemed to accept the excuse. Sin, on the other hand, looked a bit sceptical, although the look did vanish after barely a second. Roy was distracted from this, however, when Thea let out a sniff, her eyes looking as though tears were just around the corner.

"I thought you were chasing after the Vigilante again." She said, voice wavering more with each word. "I got so scared. I thought something happened to you."

"Hey." Roy tried to calm her, grasping her hand in his own. "Hey, don't worry. I'm alive." He felt a small flash of guilt well up in his chest, but forced it down for the time being. He had only been trying to help find Max's killers, with the added kidnapping and torture only being an unexpected consequence. Besides, it had helped in their search, so that was a bonus.

The trio stayed where they were for a few more minutes, before Roy's mind picked out something out of place.

"Hey, where's Aidan?" He asked, turning to look at the two young women. "I thought he'd be here."

"He wasn't feeling too good." Sin spoke up. "Decided to spend the day at home." Roy couldn't help but notice the look on the Glades girl's face as she spoke, the momentary flicker of worry beforehand coupled with the way she spoke slightly too quickly. There was little doubt in his mind that she was lying about something, or at least covering something up, but what, and why?

Before he could ponder the situation further, Sin spoke up again. "Thea, maybe we should give Roy a minute." She suggested to the young Queen. "Besides, you _did_ promise me breakfast, and I ain't seen it yet."

"What is it with you and food?" Thea laughed, rising from the bed and heading towards the door. "We'll be in the kitchen." She called over her shoulder as she left, Sin following behind her with a, "Later, Abercrombie!" as the door closed.

Roy smiled at the door for a minute, before rising and throwing off the blanket. Food did sound pretty great right now. As he made to stand, however, he was stopped in his tracks by the sight that greeted him, or rather, the sight that _didn't_ greet him.

When Oliver Queen had pulled the arrow out of his leg, it had left a very nasty-looking scar, one that stood out sharply from his skin. Even when it healed, one day far from now, Roy knew that it would forever leave a reminder on his body.

But now, there was nothing there. The skin was as smooth and free of marks as it had been before, as though there had never been so much as a pinprick there. It had completely, impossibly, healed.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Walking down the steps into the Foundry, Oliver could feel something inside himself that he hadn't felt at all for the last few days. Satisfaction. He had taken down the man who had come closest to killing him since Malcolm Merlyn, thanks to some help from both Damocles and a very old friend, pushed back an underground operation created around the drug that had been responsible for turning his friend into his enemy, and he had, somehow, managed to maintain his sanity throughout the whole ordeal, despite coming dangerously close to the edge.

There were still a few unresolved issues that needed to be sorted out, namely the man in the skull mask, but Oliver refused to let such thoughts mar the successes for the time being. After everything that had happened, he deserved at least a few moments to revel in his achievement.

Stepping into the Foundry's main hub, Oliver found himself greeted with a warm and welcoming hug from Felicity, one he didn't hesitate to return. Behind the blonde hacker, Diggle watched him, his usual half-smirk negated somewhat by the tinge of worry in his eyes.

"Still have a ghost problem?" The bodyguard asked.

"No." Oliver responded, relief clear in his voice. "I got the message." Pulling away from Felicity, he took a deep breath. While success had been nice, the time had come for reality to take back control, unable to take a backseat for any longer.

"But we…we have other problems." He let out, moving over to the weapons case and placing his bow down on its perch.

"Wouldn't be us if we didn't." Dig noted wryly, although the serious edge in his eye gave away his military-toned readiness for any future danger.

"Roy was injected with the serum." Oliver revealed, the truth of the situation forbidding any sugar-coating.

"Oh, my God, is he ok?" Felicity asked, her horror clear on her face. Oliver sighed.

"He's alive." He said carefully. "But we are going to have to keep an eye on him." The side-effects of the Mirakuru were not ones he wanted Roy to fall victim too, or anyone else for that matter.

His mind flashing back to the fight for a moment, Oliver silently added Damocles to the watchlist. The man had taken a severe beating for Gold, twice in the same night, and had managed to walk away from both. While Oliver knew that the likelihood of his suspicions holding any merit were slim to none, his instincts couldn't allow him to simply ignore the event. There was something up with Starling's newest vigilante, and he had to find out what.

He was broken free of his thoughts by Diggle. "And Cyrus Gold?" The man asked, a slight edge to his voice. Oliver remembered the bodyguard's brief encounter with the enhanced man, and couldn't blame him for his concern.

"Died on Saturday, buried on Sunday." He said decisively. "But he was working with someone. I saw him; he wore a mask with the image of…of a skull." Shaking the image of the man from his head, he looked to his friends. "He's trying to mass produce the serum to build an army."

"For what?" Diggle asked, seemingly confused at the mystery man's intentions.

"You're a soldier. What's the main purpose of an army?" Oliver asked, although both men knew the answer.

"War."

Oliver nodded solemnly, before noticing the odd silence. Looking around, it didn't take long to notice that something, or rather someone, was missing.

"Where's Barry?" He asked. The young scientist, despite their rocky introductions, had proved valuable in stopping their latest threat to the city, and his sudden absence confused Oliver somewhat.

"He went back to Central City." Felicity explained. "Wanted to get home in time to see them turn on the particle accelerator." Her phone rang at that moment, and the blonde glanced down at the device, smiling slightly as she recognised the caller. "I should take this." She said, before turning away, launching into a conversation with Barry.

Oliver waited as the two talked, struggling to fight a small grin. Watching the two work had been like watching two forces of nature combine. The young man had, despite Oliver's best intentions, slowly begun to grow on him, with the archer, once past his initial frustration at the scientist's introduction into the world of vigilantism and the man's almost childlike enthusiasm, able to appreciate his skill and clear ability to tackle work that would leave others in the dust. And, while he would deny saying such a thing to anyone, a part of him looked forward to the next time they would meet.

Brought back to the real world by the call ending, Oliver watched as Felicity picked up a small box that had been resting by the computer, before turning and presenting the item to him.

"What's this?" He asked, confused by the small package he now held. Felicity smiled.

"Just a little something Barry was working on." She said, refusing to elaborate further. With a raised eyebrow, Oliver opened the box and pulled out what sat within. In his hand rested green domino mask, the same shade as his leathers. Recalling the brief talk he'd had with Barry concerning his method of identity concealment, Oliver allowed a small smile to form on his face as he gave the item an approving look. The young CSI really was a man of many talents.

"Even the Arrow deserves a Christmas present." Diggle remarked, as Felicity took the mask from Oliver's hand.

"Here." She said, placing it over his eyes. Oliver waited patiently for her to secure the mask, before fixing her with a questioning gaze.

"How do I look?" He asked, already able to see the smile on the IT whizz's face.

"Like a hero." She replied, the words coming out softly.

Oliver nodded to her, before reaching back and flipping his hood up. There was still work to be done.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

Hanging up the call and tossing his phone on the desk, Barry cast a look around the lab. His lab, provided Captain Singh didn't kick him out for 'wandering off' again. He did respect his boss, and he more than understood the man's frustration at his constant absences. It was the same frustration Barry himself felt when his leads continued to only reach dead ends. The same frustration he'd been feeling every day for the last twelve years.

Still, he wouldn't give up on them, even if it cost him his job. If only Singh could understand that, if only _anyone_ could.

Turning his computer on, Barry quickly switched to the news coverage at S.T.A.R. Labs, listening to the reports as he draped his coat over a nearby chair. He might've missed the turning on of the particle accelerator itself, but he could at least keep up to speed with how things were going.

Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance.

"I'm Linda Park and we're live outside S.T.A.R. Labs despite the inclement weather, which is only going to get worse." The reporter was saying, her voice raised in order to be heard over the wind and rain. "The torrential downpour has driven away almost all the protesters, though S.T.A.R. Labs CEO Harrison Wells has assured us that the storm tonight will in no way affect the particle accelerator, which is up and running smoothly."

Barry dragged his attention away from the computer screen to pull out a news clipping from his bag, one concerning the Cyrus Gold case. Moving over to a board that held a pull-down map of Central City, he raised the chart, revealing the reason behind his constant disappearances. A collection of news articles from dozens of strange or unexplainable crimes, what he had come to refer to as his 'Wall of Weird'. The cuttings, as random as they seemed aside from the strange nature of their content, all had one thing in common: they all occurred over the years dating back to 1999, with each piece having a red thread to connect everything in a spider's web, with all lines coming to the report in the very centre. One concerning the murder of Nora Allen.

Barry stared at the old article pensively, only semi-aware of the news report, the lab around him, and the rumble and flash of the storm outside, slowly getting closer.

"Wait, we are now being told to evacuate the facility." The reporter's sudden update drew Barry's focus back to the coverage. "The storm may have caused a malfunction to the primary cooling system. Officials are now trying to shut down the particle accelerator, but so far have been unable to regain control of the system-"

The power went out at that moment, cutting off the reporter's words abruptly and plunging the room into darkness. Looking up over the computer monitor to the window, Barry stared out at the city. Although he couldn't see S.T.A.R. Labs from the police precinct, he'd have to be blind to miss the explosion coming from it as the particle accelerator blew up, a massive yellow burst being thrown up into the air, followed immediately by a shockwave that washed over the city in a flash.

Looking around his lab, as if to follow the shockwave's path, Barry finally noticed that the skylight had been left partially open, water falling in to splash down in the puddle that had formed on the floor. Walking over, he grabbed the dangling chains and began to close the shutter, before a sudden burst of static electricity flowed through him, stopping him in his tracks. Looking around his lab again, Barry's eyes widened at the sight of the chemicals in beakers on the nearby shelves. The liquids had begun to swirl, floating up and out of their containers with impossible movement.

Barry glanced up through the skylight, still shocked as he watched the storm raging above his head. And, in that moment, came the lightning.

The bolt surged towards him with blinding speed, shattering the glass and hitting Barry in the chest before he even had a chance to acknowledge what was going on. The lightning burned through him, the force of the strike sending him flying back into the shelves. The floating chemicals splashed down onto him as he crashed through them, landing heavily on the metal shelves flat on his back, unconscious. As he lay there, unaware of everything around him, red energy seemed to flow under his skin, rising from his hand and up to his brain.

And there in the darkness, with rain pouring in while the storm still raged outside, the Flash was born.

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

 **DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA*DTDA**

 **Hey guys and gals. I'm really sorry for how long it took to post this. My life has been ridiculously hectic over the past few weeks, making it hard to find the time to write. Seriously, most of this was written while I was either on a train or a plane. I might also have had a minor addiction to a certain musical TV show that kind of slowed things down.**

 **But, I'm back now, and that's the important thing.**

 **Anyways, hope you all enjoyed this, please do drop a review, they seriously help to motivate me, and I'll see y'all next time.**

 **TimeFury1347**


	10. Author's Note

**This is just a brief update on the story, not a new chapter. This will be deleted when the next chapter is posted**

So, I've been meaning to do this for a while, but never got around to it until now. But, you guys and gals have been patient, so I thought I owe it to you to let you know what's happening.

Basically, I've been very, very busy with University over the past few weeks. First moving in, then getting used to it, then trying to keep up with the ridiculous amount of reading and notes I have to do. And, all of that has meant that I haven't been able to write much. I've got reading week soon, so hopefully I might make some significant advances there, but I wanted you to know. The next update won't be for a while.

Thank you so much to anyone who made it to this point. I feel really bad at how long the gap has been, but there's really nothing I've been able to do about it. A new chapter is coming, I promise you. It's just taking a bit longer than usual.

Anyways, thank you for your time and support, please feel free to either favourite, follow, or review (the last one really does encourage me), and hopefully I'll talk to you all soon.

TimeFury1347

Oh, and P.S.- To Jason Hunter, Damocles' voice is a mix of Dark Arrow and Venom. It will change later on, but make of that what you will. As for your other queries, you're just gonna have to wait and find out

P.P.S- I was going to wait until the next update to say this, but I'm planning to go back over the older chapters for a bit of a rewrite. Someone helped me notice that I've made Roy and Aidan a little too similar for my liking, so I plan to address that. Nothing major, but I do feel it would help to flesh him out a little further.


	11. Rewrite

So, I'm guessing you know what's coming, given the title of this note.

This has been something I've considered doing for a while now, pretty much since I announced my rewrite of my Game of Thrones story. I haven't been sure until now, but now I know for certain. Damocles: The Dark Avenger will not be continuing. At least, not as it is.

I'm not going to lie, I went into this story with only the barest outline of what I was doing. Obviously, I worked more on my plan, but it was a hodgepodge of a plan, one that barely makes sense to look at. That combines with my drooping interest in the show and commitment to other things in my life, and I have completely lost the point from where I began.

So, I'm going to start again.

This won't be for a while. University, work and my Game of Thrones story (which I plan to being very soon) make this near impossible. But, the planning has already begun. Not everything will change, since I do like the backbone of my original story, and plan to follow it as close as I can. In fact, there will likely be scenes in the new story that are either very similar or copy-and-pasted from the old one. Some would call it cheating, but I'm not going to let my old work die if it can still be of use to me.

As with my Game of Thrones story, I am open to any suggestions you want to make. Any character you want to see interact with my own, any particular path he should take? I'm open to anything. While I like to think my writing is good, it never hurts to have outside input on possible alterations to the path it takes.

I will leave the old story up as long as I can, since I know, or at least like to hope, that people still enjoy it. Again, I can't stress how sorry I am that I cannot carry on. While I have tried rewriting, it just doesn't hold up, at least for me. I can only hope you understand and support my decision. If not, then I understand, and hope you come back when I try again.

Thanks for reading this far, and I hope to see you all in the future. You really do make what I do fun.

TimeFury1347

 **Update (hopefully the only one)**

So, I thought I'd give a little more detail on when the rewrite can be expected. While I am planning it now, I likely won't begin any actual writing until 2020, since, with the show ending, I want to try and have at least a base layout of the entire story, from beginning to end. I'm sorry if anyone was hoping for an earlier start, but, as I said above, I have no plans to write this without a fully working...well...plan.

Also, as I said both in my Game of Thrones notice and above me in this one, I am completely open to any suggestions concerning the direction this story should take. I love to write these stories (although my attention span is clearly lacking), but I also love for them to be read and enjoyed, not to mention that some of my best plans, both for this story and others, have come from suggestions and input from you. So, if any of you have something you'd like to potentially see, please do leave a comment (I am already pretty interested in previous ones concerning a certain Ra's al Ghul, but that remains to be seen).

Anyway, thank you for both reading this far and your support (it seriously helps me to write knowing there are those out there who actually enjoy my work, for some unknown reason), and I'll catch y'all later.

TimeFury1347


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